Forbidden Love
by facelesswriting
Summary: It's the summer before Harry's sixth year, and the Dursley's have been as nasty as usual. But this time, he's had a surprising ally while staying with his aunt and uncle. The only problem is: no one can know. How long before Harry's secret gets out? (Rated M for future chapters WARNING: SLASH)
1. Ch 1: The Burrow

Harry awoke with a start. He'd fallen asleep with his face against the window sometime during the day. Now, with the darkness growing ever more complete, he straightened his glasses on his nose and peered towards the street searching for the disturbance.

Unable to see any nuance of change, he glanced first at his clock, then at the letter in his hand, and finally took a sweep around his room.

The clock had barely changed. Now, it read barely before midnight, just as the paper crumpled in his fist said it should. His room, to his horror, looked much like the sorry sheet of parchment. Lithely, Harry jumped from the rickety stool and began haphazardly tossing things into his open trunk as he pondered his summer.

The first week had been miserable, simply atrocious, and although the mood lightened considerably thereafter, his friends' neglect had not, nor had the neglect from the rest of the Order.

He paused momentarily, listening for any noise. When he was confident that there had been not a sound, he proceeded his musings and realised: he would not have made it at all this summer had it not been for his surprising new companion.

Though the man had always been around, Harry must admit, this summer had shared amazing secrets that would have been left otherwise undiscovered. It was this, rather than the going-ons at the Ministry, that the two spent the majority of their time talking about. In fact, Harry was quite certain that this man now knew him better than Ron or even Hermione, with her pansophical eyes.

There it was again, and, this time, Harry was sure the tell-tale squeak of the floorboard on the third to the uppermost step of the stairs had squeaked. Looking about, Harry snatched his wand from the foot of his bed, unafraid to do magic away from school now that the Ministry had declared a state of emergency, and spun towards the doorway just as the door was knocked into the room.

Blindly sending a Stunning spell towards the attacker, Harry landed, sprawled out on his floor. He did, however, recover with ease, as the recent addition to the room noticed, a twinkle in his old eyes.

As Harry jumped up, Dumbledore grasped his arms tightly and smiled at the shock on the boy's pale face. Chuckling, Dumbledore quietly noted, "I did tell you midnight on Sunday, did I not?"

Harry simply gaped, leaving the Headmaster time to turn and repair the damage he'd created. "Ah," he remarked fondly, "nothing like blowing in a door to make an old geezer feel young again."

"You're not old, sir." Harry replied automatically, while internally trying to figure just how old this man might be.

The Headmaster, it seemed, would not put his query to rest, "Then, my boy, you're left unaware just how many times I've been around yonder sun."

Harry had no time to puzzle this odd statement, as Dumbledore was currently assessing his room. "Did my spell do more damage than simply to the door?"

Although the light in his eyes lead Harry to believe he was simply joking, he was nevertheless embarrassed by his dismal housekeeping skills.

"Now, Harry," the wizard continued, "let's get you packed." And the remaining things in Harry's room packed themselves neatly in the trunk which, in turn, closed and latched the belongings firmly inside.

Harry, meanwhile, was coaxing a stubborn Hedwig back into her cage, and, though she nicked his finger with her beak, she was finally compliant. As he clicked the lock shut, he turned expectantly towards the Headmaster who nodded once and retreated back down the narrow staircase with the trunk floating smoothly along behind him and Harry trailing the trunk.

As they left Harry's home on Privet Drive, Harry noticed a noise, or rather, a lack of noise, "Sir," he began slowly.

"Ah, dear boy, noticing the absence of your aunt and uncle are you? Well, I should think at this time of night, they'd best be asleep." Dumbledore winked at Harry.

"Do you mean-"

"No, Harry, they'll be up and about in just mere moments so I must insist we get a move on before they notice your absence."

Harry refrained from chuckling. They hadn't been noticing his disappearances all summer and he doubted they'd begin to now. Then, a thought struck him.

"Headmaster, why'd the letter come from Mrs. Weasley?" He asked, referring to the letter inviting him to stay the last two weeks of summer break at the Burrow. As he waited for the response, a growing unease developed in the pit of his stomach. Ron hadn't written to him at all over the summer, maybe he was bored of Harry and wouldn't want him around.

"Melancholy thoughts don't bode well at times such as these." Was Dumbledore's only response.

* * *

As they arrived just outside of the wards around the Burrow, Harry's thoughts took a darker turn. Now, he was no longer just contemplating if he was wanted here, but also if he was giving up two weeks to be spent with his new friend only to be a disappointing wallflower in the Weasley's home.

It was just as they neared the door that a very frazzled woman came flying madly at them and flung herself at Harry.

"Oh! Oh! My dear boy, they must have been starving you! Absolutely starving!" Cried Molly Weasley.

As the plump woman released him to corral him into the kitchen, Harry saw a small and very shocked-looking mirror of Mrs. Weasley's face in the kitchen window, just as the curtain fell back over it.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. He was sure that had been Ginny, but why had she leapt back from the window so quickly?

His answer came not two steps later as a gaggle of red-haired children swept across the lawn towards him with shouts of "Harry!" and "Why didn't you say you were coming?"

The majority of his fears were put to rest as he realised Molly had invited him as a surprise for the Weasley clan. Still, however, the nagging thought of leaving behind his warm bed with his friend was subduing.

Quickly, over the passing hours, during which Dumbledore left, but Arthur, Bill, and Fleur arrived down the stairs, Harry's mind was put at ease. They told him Dumbledore had forbidden letters to keep him safe. While this didn't make him explicitly at ease, he was willing to forgive them. Soon, he was chatting away with his old friends over a hot plate of Molly's best sausages.

Still, however often Harry tried to bring it up, no news of the outside world was to be gleaned from this crowd. Any chance the conversation had of turning to a potentially insightful conversation was stopped short by an offhand remark from Molly about this or that of his summer activities. And because Harry was not particularly keen on discussing his summer pastimes, he steered clear of topics that would allow for Mrs. Weasley to intervene.

Instead, he opted to ask about the classes Ron and Ginny would be taking, inciting a fevered debate between the twins and Ginny on how she was "becoming a Percy" and was soon to be more of an insufferable know-it-all than she already was.

As it was fast approaching daylight, Molly bid them to go to bed. Happily they all ascended the stairs and climbed into their beds to fall fast asleep the moment their tired little heads hit their pillows.


	2. Ch 2: The Dream

In his sleep, Harry drifted through memories, like flipping pages of a book.

He saw the first week of summer. He was locked in his room and given no food and only two bathroom trips a day. He could remember downing all the water he could from the sink, until Vernon banged on the door and told him to hurry it up. He had just been so thirsty.

Then he remembered the nightmare he thought he'd had. Tossing and turning in his bed, fighting his rebelling stomach, a figure had appeared in the window. Harry'd been too preoccupied; he hadn't even noticed until the figure scooped him up and carried him back out the window and Apparated away.

Harry could feel himself awaking on the enormous, feather mattress, covered in thick blankets and being at ease for the first time all summer. It was the first summer night since he could recollect, that he hadn't woke shivering under the thin, holey sheet the Dursley's grudgingly gave him. So at ease he was, he didn't afford the time to even open his eyes, and fell again into sleep's waiting arms.

Now, he was being shaken awake, a motion that felt rough in the soft bed. When he woke, his first sight was those eyes that he knew so well. Stressed as they were, they were alarming, and Harry attempted to roll to the other side of the mattress and get up, only to find the bed was much larger than he expected. When only succeeded in tangling himself in the plush bedwear, the man, trying to be gentle, slowly unraveled Harry's legs and set him free.

Harry jumped up, "You! Why're you here?" He shouted.

The man winced nearly imperceptibly. What had he expected, the boy to be happy that they'd let him starve? He recovered quickly, however, and rounded with, "I do believe it is you intruding on my own hospitality, not vise versa."

With that Harry looked around. He appeared to be in a very lavish bedchamber. The plush bed not being the only luxury this man privately afforded himself. The richly coloured walls spoke volumes, yelling their purple and yellow at Harry's eyes. The matching furniture accounted for dark accent pieces across the room, all having small baubles and trinkets whirring and spinning or just lying about atop them, much like the man's office had been when Harry'd visited it in the past.

The older man watched him assess the room with one eyebrow cocked and his eyes sparkling. "Is it to your liking?"

Harry opted not to let himself be subdued by his own curiosity, and did not answer. Questioning instead: "Why'd you come get me last night when no one's written to me all week?"

Again the man winced. "Let me explain over lunch." He offered.

Harry pondered that as the man summoned a house elf to order food, and took the time that the man was distracted to peer about the room again.

There were no windows, but there were paintings of outdoor scenes illustrated directly on the stone. They did not move. There were no clothes lying about on the dark green carpet as Harry's room always had, and he could see no sign of anything put aside uselessly. It appeared the wizard before him was an excellent housekeeper.

As the elf disappeared, the man redirected his attention to Harry, but before he could say anything Harry demanded. "Is this your house?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it was my family's before mine."

"No, why am I here?"

"I couldn't just leave you with them. Did you not see how they were treating you?"

"It's no different than any other summer, albeit I had no letters as distractions this time." Harry offered slowly. He realised the compassion in the man's statement.

His eyes tightened as Harry spoke. "You should have told us, Harry."

"What would you have done?" He shot back.

The man bent his head at this, looking every bit his age. He knew he was the one who ordered that Harry have no contact with anyone this summer, lest they reveal something best kept under wraps.

Harry was taken aback at the stance the older man held. He very nearly wanted to go comfort him; the guilt pouring off his body was coming at Harry in waves.

Then the dream shifted.

Harry was sitting at a table, his appearance less ragged after two weeks of joining the man for dinner, though he'd not spent the night since the first.

Harry now knew that the man was the one that dictated the lack of letters, or so he claimed. Harry had no doubt that if Ron and Hermione wanted to write him, there'd be nothing stopping them. He also knew that the revelation should have made him furious. How dare someone stop his own friends' letters? But the anger abated quickly as he remembered Dobby had done the exact thing preceding Harry's second year, also for Harry's own good.

Harry was now allowed to eat at the Dursley's and was no longer devouring everything the house elves placed before him. He silently thanked the man for his kindness, though he couldn't fathom why he couldn't just go to the Burrow and live there.

The man looked up from the paper. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry, startled, replied, "Just thinking."

"You know, you can tell me anything, ask me anything. I may not be able to tell you, but I can try my best."

Harry smiled.

The dream shifted.

The Dursley's had been working him senseless. He was now not only permitted to leave his room, but required. Every night, he'd hardly been able to stay awake long enough for the man to come and whisk him away.

The small but prolific house had become a sort of sanctuary from the rest of his life. He came here and was fed, could bathe, and was looked after with those twinkling old eyes.

In his own home, Harry was treated like a slave. He washed dishes, scrubbed floors, made food, cleaned and dusted all the rooms, swept, vacuumed, gardened, and washed windows, among other things. The Dursley home was no doubt the cleanest on the block. Still, he was not allowed to eat more than a spare few bits of the food he'd prepared, was not allowed to enjoy the blankets he laundered, and was not allowed to rest a few moments of the day, while the Dursley's spent their time lying about.

So tonight, as the couple that this had followed, Harry was utterly exhausted. He stayed up late to be allotted food and never returned until well after midnight, but the next day he had to rise no later than the sun. After four days of little to no sleep, Harry slipped.

Literally.

He had been resting his head on his hand as he ate the gloriously prepared soup, and his head literally slipped right into the waiting bowl.

Jumping up, he spluttered apologies. The house elves ran to his side trying to reach high enough to dab the soup of his face and only ceased when the man himself took a cloth from one of them and cleaned Harry's face. Harry was shaking, terrified.

Chuckling, "You have nothing to apologise for, Harry, of course you're exhausted. Now, you were saying the Dursley's were going on an outing to London tomorrow? How about a day off?"

"I can't just take a day off! They'll see all that I haven't cleaned! They'll be furious!" Harry nearly shouted. He was finally thinking that maybe this man understood. Oh, well.

"Now, Harry, I realise that but I'm sure we can find someone who's willing to spare a day to help Harry Potter clean, can't we?"

Before he'd even finished his sentence the three elves were jumping up and down volunteering their services, with shouts of "Anything for Harry Potter!" and "Oh! Fibby just loves to!"

Under their bombardment of feverous charity, Harry had no choice but to concede.

"Now, write a list of things to be done," the man handed him a quill and parchment, "and you may retire to sleep."

After he'd finished the long list, he stood, ready to Apparate home, but was surprised when the man instead lead him to a bookshelf. He picked a book off the shelf and stuck his wand into the space created, murmuring something. Suddenly the wall became transparent and the man entered the room Harry'd puzzlingly found himself in two and a half weeks ago.

The man motioned to the large, silver coated bed, perfectly made.

"Goodnight, my boy." the man stated and turned on his heel. The wall was sealed again before Harry had a chance to object.

How on earth had this happened? He was not aware of agreeing to kick the man out of his own bedchamber, as it so obviously was not a guest room. He was just wondering as to what he should do when a house elf appeared.

"Harry Potter, sir!" she squeaked. "Master sent Harry Potter nightclothes, sir!"

"Er, thank you, Fibby." he said as he reached for the garments the elf offered, but when he thanked her by name, she squeaked again and disappeared.

"Fibby so sorry, Harry Potter, sir!" the little elf shouted as she reappeared. "Fibby excited she is one to bring Harry Potter, sir, his clothes, sir!"

"It's quite alright." Harry said as he accepted the offered apology.

"Fibby told, sir, Fibby not allowed to leave until Harry Potter, sir, sleeps in the bed, sir!"

"Er, alright." Harry told the elf. He excused himself to change in the lavatory. When he emerged Fibby was standing right where he left her, but the covers of the bed had been turned invitingly downwards.

Harry awkwardly crawled into the overly large bed, "Goodnight, Fibby."

He awoke to a bright light flicking on in the darkness.


	3. Ch 3: Harmony and Hermione

That morning dawned early with a hearty breakfast and the arrival of none other than one Hermione Granger. Just as the Weasley clan was sitting down in front of their toast and bacon, Hermione and two very startled-looking adults appeared in the middle of the bustling kitchen.

The two adults were introduced as Dan and Jean Granger. Hermione quickly introduced all of the Weasley's and her parents cordially shook each persons' extended hand. However, when Hermione introduced Fred and George, Jean's hand shook a little, and Mr. Granger said, "Pleased, Frederick," so quietly that Harry was sure it was only heard by George and himself, as they were standing on opposite sides of Fred.

Harry, daring a glance at Hermione, saw a mad blush creeping up her face as she fought to restrain a nervous giggle. Amazed at the new revelation, Harry could only gape at Hermione, who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes.

The lull in the room, however, was short-lived as at that moment a tawny owl ran smack into the window. Mrs. Granger shrieked and Fred took the getaway opportunity and went to recover the mail.

"Oh!" He said as he read the envelopes, "Hogwarts letters! And yours is here too, Hermione!"

Everyone gathered around the table and their previously abandoned breakfast plates to open their new letters. To no one's surprise, Hermione was the first to have her package open.

"Merlin!" She squealed, "They have our OWLs and our new classes!"

Hermione quickly and excitedly poured over her OWLs as the two boys did the same, but with less enthusiasm. Much less enthusiasm.

Needless to say, Hermione achieved an exceptional amount of Os, her only E was in her practical Astronomy exam, and that was only because no one had been able to finish. That was the time that McGonagall had been struck down by multiple Stunning spells for defending Hagrid. All-in-all, she was very happy with the grades she turned out.

Harry and Ron were less fortunate in their exams, barely scraping by. Harry, however, let out a shocked gasp as he realised an impossibility on his class list.

"What Harry?" George asked as he peer over his shoulder.

"I have Potions this year." Harry answered numbly.

"Harry! That's great!" Hermione shouted, enveloping him in a hug. "Now you can still be an Auror!"

"But it's not possible Hermione. I got an E on my potions final and even that was a miracle! Snape requires and O!"

"Well, I just it's just a stroke of luck." Ron laughed.

Hermione snatched Ron's schedule out of his hand, "I wouldn't be too smug yet, Ronald. You've got it, too."

* * *

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully.

The majority of it was spent telling the Grangers about the world in which their daughter lived and pouring over their new school lists and letters from their friends.

The letters had begun arriving just over an hour after the school owl had. Everyone was excited to hear what OWLs Ron got and nearly every letter had an inquiry at the bottom as to why Harry was not responding to their letters, how to better contact Harry and Hermione in the Muggle world, and if Ron knew what OWLs they'd each gotten.

Harry and Ron wrote back to all of them, Harry needing to assure them that he'd keep in better touch in the future, and Ron needing to fret about taking dreadful Potions for yet another year.

"Can you just not take a class they give you?" He mumbled, slouching even lower in his seat.

"Oh, Ron, of course not." Hermione replied, swatting him with the newspaper that she and the twins were reading.

Hermione had already memorized her class list and, because she already knew what classes her best friends had, felt no need to frenziedly send owls to each of her classmates. The poor birds, she thought, had enough work as it was.

In any way, she was perfectly content to leisurely read the paper with one of the red-headed twins perched on each of the arms of her chair.

Time flew by and soon they were all sitting around the Weasley's crowded table again. The Grangers left after lunch by the Portkey on which they'd come, and, though they'd enjoyed having met Hermione's family, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It'd been hard having to explain how everything worked and how everything happened and what all went on in the Wizarding world.

As they departed, however, Hermione hugged her parents one last time, and Harry caught a whisper he was sure wasn't meant to be heard.

Harry, however chose to deal with one mystery at a time so when everyone settled back into their chairs, and Hermione began reaching for one of the many books she'd brought, Harry quietly asked to speak to her in private. Puzzled, Hermione agreed, and the two slipped, unnoticed, from the room.

As soon as they were in the garden, Harry rounded on Hermione, "Not one bloody letter, Hermione!"

Immediately, tears started to pool in her eyes. "Harr-" she began, but he cut her off.

"You know how to work a phone, but not one call!" Harry continued. "You should have told me!" He cracked a smile at her.

"What?" That brought her up short.

"Don't even act like you don't know, Hermione! You and Fred!" Harry started laughing. "I'd never have guessed! When'd this happen?"

"Oh." She paused a moment. This conversation had taken a twist she'd not expected. "Er…"

"Hermione, I'm so happy for you guys!" He said as a blush erupted on her cheeks.

"Oh, Harry, I'm just so glad you aren't angry! We wanted to write, really, we did! Dumbledore just kept telling us that it was for the best. Then, I guess, Ron was talking about how it was upsetting me, and Fred decided to send me some things from their joke shop to cheer me up. So I owled him back, and we just got to talking. He's just such a great guy, Harry!"

The light shining in her eyes was enough to tell Harry just how happy she was. He didn't interrupt. He knew what it felt like to keep a secret bottled up inside you.

"...and we talked about everything, Harry." she continued. "He's really quite smart. We talked about it all, from the castle to our classes to our home lives to being twins-" Hermione broke off suddenly, her hands flying to her mouth and a look of surprise on her face.

"What, Hermione? I know he's a twin. I see George all the…" Harry trailed off as the whisper he'd caught earlier came back to him.

"'Tell Sissy 'Goodbye,' for me.'"

"You're…" Harry stopped. "Are you…"

"She's not magic." Hermione whispered.

* * *

A million things went through Hermione's mind as she stood there with her hand clapped over her mouth. First and foremost, she couldn't believe she had told Harry all about Fred. Not only was he one of the loneliest people she knew, but he was also best friends with one Ronald Weasley who would no doubt hear of this, and the second he knew, the whole school might as well know. Not, of course, that she was ashamed of Fred, she just was a particularly private person and wasn't used to the hubbub of the dating world and wasn't quite sure she wanted to tell the girls at school all about her secret relationship.

Then, she chastised herself. She should have told Harry about her and Fred outright anyway; he was right. She also should have watched her tongue a little closer and perhaps not spoken so quickly. She had just been dying to tell someone other than her mum about how wonderful Fred was, and she forgot her tendency to babble.

She didn't even know why she was thinking so much about Harmony lately. Maybe it was because she finally had something that Harmony didn't. She'd had magic, but that made her an outcast in her own family. Of course her parents were amazed and proud, but Harmony pretended it was a game. She laughed and joked about how Hermione was out there playing with a stick while she was going to be a doctor and do something useful with herself.

But now she had Fred. Harmony had never had a serious boyfriend. She was pretty enough, much prettier than Hermione, and she was so smart. But for all of her good qualities, she had a flaw. She wanted perfection. If he wasn't Mr. Right, he didn't get a second glance from her.

Hermione also chastised herself for keeping this big of a piece of her life from her two best friends. Of course, they wouldn't just abandon her and go running off after Harmony the second they had heard of her, but Hermione was just so sick of being second-rate to her sister. Harmony had all the friends, all the boys fell for her, and she was so, so much smarter, no matter how hard Hermione tried.

Hermione finally felt like she had something and she was terrified that Harmony could have any part of it. She didn't think it greedy, just scarey that everything she worked for could be taken right out from under her once again.

Even her stupid name was odd. Here, of course, name's were a little different, but it had completely mortified Hermione when Viktor couldn't say her name. Finally she just let him say it wrong and pretended it was alright because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. Fred had tried to console her about this when they'd written over the summer. "Harmony? What kind of a name is that? I'd much prefer Hermione, it doesn't sound so sissy-ish. It sounds to me like she wouldn't have lasted a day in your shoes! She sounds as if she would have fainted at the sight of Hagrid, much less everything you've been through!" he'd written, and while it made her feel better for a while, the nagging suspicion that Harmony would be ever the better of the two of them never fully left. Except…

"She's not magic." Hermione whispered.

Harry, to her surprise, no longer looked shell-shocked. Further, he displayed compassion no one would have known he had, and he didn't bombard her with questions. In fact, he didn't even ask one.

All he said was, "I won't tell anyone Hermione. Promise."

Hermione's worries all flooded away at that moment as she rushed to hug Harry. She'd been so silly, so stupid. She had many things Harmony didn't have, chiefly these two wonderful young men she was lucky enough to call best friends, but, beyond that, she had an entire world at her fingertips that Harmony would never have. Suddenly, she felt sorry for the other twin. She had spent her entire life trying to outshine Harmony, then she spent the last five years trying to bar her existence from even being known in this wonderful place. She was such an awful sister.

She released a very startled-looking Harry from her hug and smiled at him. "Thank you, Harry, but I think it's time to out my little secret. I just have to think up how."

With that, they both turned and strode back into the Burrow.

* * *

Though he kept his promise to Hermione, he found it rather more difficult than he'd expected. It wasn't like anything similar to it could come up in conversation so Harry didn't have to worry about slipping up as Hermione did. Still, every time he looked at Ron, he felt as if he were lying to his face, and these thoughts kept Harry awake at night over the next week as he listened to Ron's snores.

Tonight, as Harry stared at the bright orange ceiling in Ron's room, he thought about how this changed Hermione to him.

He'd never expect her to be able to keep a secret. Yes, it was true, they'd kept secrets, many of them, from other people, but it felt odd to know that his best friend had been keeping something so large from him.

Of course, he knew exactly why she'd done it. It was evident in her eyes the second she'd realised her slip, though he doubted she knew it. The fear in her eyes practically screamed, 'Don't leave me,' as if after all these years of being the brightest witch of her age, she still felt inferior. Harry guessed she felt her sister was better, and he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom why.

He almost laughed. He'd always wondered why the Sorting Hat hadn't put her in Ravenclaw, but now he didn't know why it hadn't put her in Slytherin!

He'd always known that she was brave and smart. Obviously she was patient and kind, anyone who'd talked to her, much less studied with her, knew that she could be a Hufflepuff! But this was a surprise to him. He'd never seen any of the secretiveness or machiavellian qualities epitomized by the Snakes, but here it was. She'd practically lied to them for five years. He ran his fingers back through the messy tangle of his hair and flipped onto his side, trying to get comfortable.

But when he thought about it, she'd never actually said anything about siblings in her life, lacking or otherwise. Harry sat up in his bed. She must have been so careful! To never mention anything that could make it sound like she had more of a family than she let on, to never make it sound as if she shared the house with someone her age, or to never mention anyone her age from the muggle world would be nearly impossible! Somehow, she'd done it though, and Harry drifted off to sleep, sure in his thoughts that she did not belong to Gryffindor, but to Ravenclaw or Slytherin.


	4. Ch 4: The Letters

After spending one entire week cooped up in the chaos that was the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley was finally letting them enjoy a day out, and they were going to Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies.

As they were filing out of the kitchen and into the parlour that held the fireplace, a kestrel flew in and landed on the sill of the window above the sink. As she was closest, Fleur gracefully glided over the bird and attempted to take the letter. The bird, however, nipped dangerously close to her fingertips, and she backed away.

The bird looked about with tiny dark eyes until she spotted Harry. Then, as effortlessly as the wind, she flew to Harry's shoulder. Slowly Harry reached to undo the parchment around the beautiful bird's foot, and, patiently, she let him. When he'd finished, however, she didn't fly away.

"I don't have anything to feed you." Harry told the creature, hoping it would understand. The whole of the current household was watching the exchange curiously.

"Harry," Hermione said, "do you know this bird?"

"No, why?" He asked, puzzled by her tone.

"Well," All eyes turned to her, "it's a kestrel and normally those birds aren't used for mail."

"Why?" Fred asked, "He's-"

The bird snapped quite quickly in Fred's general direction.

"She's a girl, Fred." Hermione said. "They don't use them because they're unusually vicious to magic folk. No one knows why. Muggles use them for falconry all the time without incident, but if you put it in a room with wizards, they tend to...anger easily."

"That explains it." Fred said, appearing quite offended.

Harry looked back at the bird. She had startlingly human eyes and appeared to know exactly what was going on around her.

"I still don't have food for you." He told her.

She swooped off his shoulder at this and dive bombed the parchment in his hands. Immediately, he dropped it for her and she swooped back up to hover in the air in front of his face, the letter caught in her bluish beak.

"She wants you to read it, mate." Ron said.

Harry took the parchment from her again and rolled it to see his name in familiar handwriting.

"Who's it from?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No idea." Harry answered.

As he unfolded the parchment, he stroked the bird's feathers. Then he read:

_H,_

_It seems you've left a few things at my home. I was unsure as to a place to put them. I assume you're not returning to Privet Drive before the beginning of term? I thought it to be odd for me to turn up at the Burrow with your things, too many questions, you understand. I could bring them with me at the beginning of term, if you please, and make arrangements to turn them over in private. However, any way you see fit would be fine. Please, let me know._

_Hope you are well,_

_yours truly_

_p.s. I look forward to hearing about the remainder of your summer._

Hope you will continue to keep me posted.

"What'd it say?" Hermione asked. She looked worried.

Harry realised his mouth was open in shock. Quickly he snapped it shut, then realised he needed to answer her.

"Nothing." He choked out. "It said not a word."

And with that he turned and walked into the parlour, the bird still sitting on his shoulder.

* * *

Harry was sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour at a secluded little table. He was currently writing a return letter, though it proved more difficult than it might seem.

After thinking for a few moments he'd started without an introduction, not knowing exactly what to call the man who'd kindly shared his hospitality with Harry over the course of a few weeks. Quickly, however, Harry realised that was not the only thing for which he couldn't find the words.

He read it over again, "'My apologies, I hadn't known you'd wish to remain in contact after-'" Harry scrunched his nose. "After what?" he asked himself. "'After the years that we were only in association from school?' That's dumb. 'After the summer ended'? That sounds like it's a-"

Damn! He couldn't even find a word for how stupid this was! He marked out what he had and started over, the kestrel watching him all the while, though she was not the only one.

* * *

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "Can you read lips?"

"Huh?" Ron looked up from his sundae. "Er, no?"

"I want to know to whom Harry's writing, and he's talking while he writes." She explained.

"Why don't you just ask him?"

Hermione sighed. Ron was just so simple sometimes. Luckily Ginny jumped in for her, "He already wouldn't tell mum, Ron. What makes you think he'd tell us?"

"Dunno. He's our friend?"

The girls sighed and shared a look. There was just no helping some people.

* * *

Harry looked down at all his miserable starts.

_'I just received your letter, I'm sorry I hadn't known you'd wish to stay in touch given'_

_'I apologise for not writing sooner. Things have just been so hectic'_

_'I'm sorry, I didn't realise what we were'_

"Bullshite. Given what? I can't lie! And I still don't have a clue what we are!" He whispered, then sighed. He'd just write what he absolutely needed to say.

'I'm sorry for the inconvenience; I hadn't realised I'd left anything in my comings and goings.'

Okay, that was a good start. Now what? Did he want to see him again? Could he just ask him to send it by owl? No, he decided, he wanted to see him again.

_'Would it be too much trouble to bring it to Hogwarts when you come? It'd be much appreciated.'_

Did he spell that right? Yes, yes, he did.

_'You've done so much for me already and'_

Oh, no, he wrote 'and'. What else was he supposed to say? He supposed he could cast a spell to remove the blasted word, but the indent would still be on the paper. And...and…?

'I'm so thankful.'

There, he was finished. Harry read it over one last time, _'I'm sorry for the inconvenience; I hadn't realised I'd left anything in my comings and goings. Would it be too much trouble to bring it to Hogwarts when you come? It'd be much appreciated. You've done so much for me already and I'm so thankful.'_

It would do. Then, just as Harry was about to fold it, he thought.

Quickly he added, '_My week has been uneventful, I must say, though it is good to be back at the Burrow, as always.'_

He stopped. Just how much could he say?

_'I want to thank you. For your care and hospitality this summer. It means so much to me. I forgot to ask, though, why did you come to Privet Drive that first night?'_

It was a question that had been bothering him very much over the past week. He'd been away from the insanity of the Dursleys so he'd had time to think about it, and it didn't make much sense.

Finally he signed and sealed his letter. It read:

_'I'm sorry for the inconvenience; I hadn't realised I'd left anything in my comings and goings. Would it be too much trouble to bring it to Hogwarts when you come? It'd be much appreciated. You've done so much for me already and I'm so thankful._

_'My week has been uneventful, I must say, though it is good to be back at the Burrow, as always._

_'I want to thank you. For your care and hospitality this summer. It means so much to me. I forgot to ask, though, why did you come to Privet Drive that first night?'_

Satisfied, Harry tied it to the falcon, who immediately flew off.

* * *

The kestrel arrived at the window to Dumbledore's office, just as Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Snape were sitting down to talk about the up-and-coming year. Dumbledore allowed it into his office but told her that she must wait for him to finish.

Over an hour later the meeting was wrapping up, and the bird, having placed itself beside Fawkes, flew up to the man and allowed the letter to be taken from it. Then, freed to stand where it pleased, perched on the smooth, cluttered surface of Dumbledore's desk, where she allowed her head to be caressed.

Much later, just as he was about to retire for the evening, he allowed himself to read the letter and accept the rejection he knew would come with it. He was surprised by answer the letter gave, however, and had to read it again, then a third time, before believing he'd read true.

Quickly, he grabbed up a sheet of parchment, eager to reply to the boy who, it seemed, just might welcome his companionship. Then, he discovered the same problem, Harry'd experienced earlier that day. He had the feelings and thoughts that he wanted to convey, but no words with which to do so.

One very long hour later he decided to put a charm on the quill to capture his thoughts. He'd found himself thinking in circles and that just wouldn't do.

He allowed his thoughts to drift again, trusting the quill would catch what was important.

Another half-hour later, he looked down at his thoughts.

_'happy he replied_

_good he's happy_

_sad he's away_

_wonderful green eyes_

_hate those glasses_

_bring things to you_

_Filch problem_

_worried about you_

_so worried_

_those wonderful green eyes'_

On the bottom of the page, was a beautiful sketch of Harry's eyes, without his glasses. The quill had captured them perfectly, to the point that, though they were still, they appeared to have emotion and light flickering about in them.

With a sigh, he removed the spell and began writing himself.

_H,_

_I'm happy to hear from you so soon, and glad you are having a nice time at the Burrow, though I find it hard to imagine anything being uneventful with that many people._

_It would be no problem to bring your things to the school, but we'd have to get around Filch somehow._

_You inquired after my reasoning for my initial visit. The simplest answer I can give you is that I was worried. You've always been a strong young man, but I feared what your recent loss had done to you. I'm sure you remember our conversation in which I told you I was the one who forbade your friends to write you letters. Well, while I stand by that decision, it didn't mean that I felt you should have no contact. It was a severity that I only felt necessary due to the ability of your friends to forget to watch what they write. Even as I write this now, I feel I may be putting too much in writing._

_Do write soon,_

_yours truly_

Perfect. That was as a letter should be. Slowly and careful not to smudge the ink, he folded it up and tied the new parchment to the bird's foot. Gracefully, she lifted into flight as he fell into sleep.

* * *

The next morning the Burrow awoke to a scream. Blood-curdling, and horrifyingly terrible, everyone jumped from their beds to race up the old staircase, wands at the ready.

Ron's door was thrown open by none other than Mrs. Weasley, the first to reach it and the sight she expected to find was not the sight she stumbled in upon.

Harry was standing in the middle of the room in his boxer shorts shouting at the seemingly indifferent kestrel. "What the bloody hell are you trying to do? Damn bird! Nearly soiled my shorts, you filthy little son of a-"

"Harry!" Hermione squealed from the doorway. "I'm sure she didn't mean to scare you!"

Harry, it seemed, had not been aware that he'd had an audience, but if he was embarrassed, he didn't show it. "You try waking up with that thing" he flung his arm in the general direction of his bed, on which the creature perched, "staring into your face, Hermione! It has human eyes, in case you weren't aware!"

Hermione very well was aware that kestrels had human eyes, as they matched hers nearly perfectly. While she understood that was disconcerting, she didn't understand what the screaming was about and wasted no time informing Harry of that.

"It doesn't blink! It's like! It's like!" He yelled then seemed to lose steam with every repetition.

When he'd repeated himself until he was whispering, she stepped forward. "It's like what, Harry?" She whispered equally quietly. He was the only one to hear.

"Cedric's eyes." He lifted his emerald eyes to her, but now they were tear-filled. "After."

The room was still behind Hermione, everyone simply watching as more and more tears filled Harry's eyes. Hermione lifted her shirt sleeve to wipe away her own tears, then, more for a distraction than out of curiosity, she reached for the letter.

"What are these letters, anyway?"

"No!" Harry yelled, roughly jerking Hermione's hand back from the bird.

A gasp from the doorway called Harry's attention that Hermione was not the only one who'd coming running up the stairs to him.

"She bites." Harry said pathetically, with a forced shrug. "We saw that she tried to bite Fleur. Hate to have her succeed."

It was true that the falcon did bite so everyone let it be, but retained their curiosity. Who on earth could Harry be corresponding with causing him to be so secretive?

Ginny, for her part, came to her own conclusions, perhaps a bit closer than the others.

* * *

Harry was watched like, well, like a falcon's prey all day long. He'd never be able to answer his letter if they kept up like this. Everywhere he tried to go, he was nonchalantly followed. Quickly, it became annoying.

Finally, just before supper, Harry managed to find a secluded and impossibly quiet corner of the Burrow. Pulling his letter from his jeans' pocket, he checked again to make sure no one was watching. Unfolding it he scanned the words quickly, lest he be caught.

The letter was so filled with praise, and he was so excited that the man thought so highly of him that he reread it, and only then did he hear near-silent breathing behind him.

Whirling around, he caught Ginny hurriedly retracing her steps back up the staircase, but she was too late.

"Ginny! How much did you read?" Harry shouted after her, chasing her up the stairs and into a room he'd never been in before. "What the…?"

The room was about a hundred shades of purple, none of them matching. The two beds looked worn but comfortable and there were big muggle bean bags strewn around the room in lieu of chairs.

"This is my room, and I have no idea what you're talking about." She replied hopefully, as if she had no real belief that he'd listen to her.

"What'd you see?"

"You reading your letter. I tried to sneak up behind you to read it, but you heard me too soon so I didn't get the chance."

He gave her credit, the girl was a quick liar, if not for the fact that she didn't blink at all as she spoke, he might've trusted her word.

"Liar." He said shortly as he thought to himself that maybe they all belonged in Slytherin.

She visibly deflated, though her eyes stayed bright, "Fine. I got to, 'You inquired,'. Don't you think that's quite formal for a love letter, Harry?"

"A what?" The harangue he'd had in his mind brought up short. "You think this is a what?"

"Oh, I'm not daft, Harry! I know a love letter when I see one! Who's the lucky lady? It's not Padma Patil, is it? She has handwriting like that."

"Er…" Harry didn't know what to say. On one hand, it would be useful to have her believing some silly story about a love letter, but he didn't want a rumour like that to be spread too forcefully, nor did he want her to try and dig up who the letter was from.

"Harry! You know you're caught! Own up to it and I promise I won't tell, but if you make me, I'll get Hermione."

He opted for the truth, sort of, "It's not a love letter, Ginny, it's from a friend."

"Oh, please," she brushed the comment aside, "She knows where you are, she knows who you're with, she wants to know what you're doing. Harry. You left your stuff at her house during your 'comings and goings', for Merlin's sake! And I hope you know, she's only trying to get past Filch to be with you. Returning your stuff has nothing to do with it."

Harry laughed at the audacity of it all, and Ginny narrowed her eyes in return before yanking open her door and yelling down the hall, "Hermione! Can you come here for a second?"

Harry jumped up, fast as lightning. "Never mind, Hermione! You can stay down there!" He yelled through the door before slamming it shut. "What are you doing?" He hissed at Ginny.

"I told you I'd do it if I needed to." She crossed her arms. "Who is she?"

Harry sighed. He had no choice. If he didn't lie to her now, she and Hermione would figure out the truth soon enough. He just had to think of a good lie and fast.


	5. Ch 5: Harry's Lie

CH5 Harry's Lie

**A/N: So, I realised that I kinda forgot to put a disclaimer on all this soo…**

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter characters and setting are not mine** (excluding a few here and there but you should know which those are)**. I am not making money from this or stuff like that, and, yeah, I think that's about it...**

**But hey! while I'm here, go ahead and review and whatnot! I'd love the feedback and it'd mean so much! And thanks to everyone taking the time to read this. You seriously have no idea what it means to me. The most valuable thing a person can give is their time and you've given me much of yours. For that, from the bottom of my heart, I sincerely thank each and every one of you :).**

**Aaannd now that I've sufficiently brought myself to tears...on with the story!**

* * *

Two hours later, Harry and Ginny were still sitting in her room on the funny bags of beans as he was lying to her face. It had started slowly, Harry didn't quite know what to say, but soon, he'd realised Ginny cared less about who the girl was and more about what she was like.

After the initial minutes of Harry's worthless banter about how she was older than him which was embarrassing for him and he was famous which was embarrassing for her, hoping that'd be a worthy enough excuse to decide to keep the whole thing a secret, Ginny cut in.

"What's she like?"

"What?" Harry stopped mid-sentence.

"You know, is she smart, funny, pretty, talented? What do you see in her?"

"Oh," Harry thought for a moment. Then, he'd begun stringing together every good quality he'd ever seen in a person. It'd taken up a good part of an hour, Ginny, more often than not, breaking in to ask a question or sigh at how 'romantic' this or that quality was.

Harry had to admit, if he'd found a girl like this, he'd have a catch. He made her brilliant but not a know-it-all, gorgeous but not vain, and hilarious but not annoyingly so. He'd even added it qualities that were from his friend from this summer.

He'd said she was a wonderful listener, earning himself a sigh, and they'd stayed up talking for nights on end through the telephone, or 'yellytone' as Ginny said, about how scary the world was becoming and what they wanted to do when this was all over.

He said she was a wonderful chef, though it in-and-of-itself was not true, the man's house elves certainly could cook and it got an 'oh! she's _cooked _for you!' from Ginny. Then, she demanded to know what she'd cooked and how often and why. Harry saw no importance in this so he'd casually said that she'd cooked a few times over the course of the summer and she could cook anything from casserole to soup to pasta. Ginny, however found this quite impressive and said that he _must _learn to cook and return the favour for the girl.

He'd talked about all the silly unmatched colour scheme, and how it was completely shocking but somehow fitting just the same.

He shared about the wide expanses of literature covering all the walls in most of the rooms, and Ginny remarked how much Hermione would love her. Harry couldn't tell if this was another ploy to get him to offer to let them meet or just a general statement so he ignored it.

Then, when Harry'd all but exhausted his store of positive attributes, Ginny cut in again, "What's she look like?"

Harry had been expecting this one to come up sooner or later so he had an answer waiting. "Now, Ginny," he said, "I already told you this whole thing is supposed to be kept a secret. You're just trying to figure out what she looks like so you'll know who she is, but it won't work."

"That's not what I was doing at all." And she did genuinely look offended. However, after a pause she said, "Wait, why wouldn't it work?"

Harry was ready for this one, too. "She doesn't go to Hogwarts. You wouldn't know her." He smiled, proud of his thinking. It was foolproof.

Ginny grinned back maliciously, "Well, if she doesn't go to Hogwarts, it won't matter if you tell me, will it?"

He was a fool, he decided, and he was caught.

"Well, er…" He stuttered fishing for an answer.

"Go on." Ginny nearly demanded.

Thinking quickly, Harry opted for a bit of the truth, "I just don't know where to start." He offered helplessly.

Apparently this was a good answer, for it incited an 'aww' and a very Molly-ish pinch of his cheek before she said, "Take your time, dear; I bet she's simply stunning," again in a very Mrs. Weasley-fashion.

He nodded hoping that would be enough. When it proved that she was expecting more, he took a moment to collect himself and was about to begin when Ginny cut in again, "Hang on. If she doesn't go to Hogwarts, how'd you meet?"

"In Little Whinging." Harry blurted out before he could think.

Ginny frowned. "If she lived that near to you, she'd go to Hogwarts, wouldn't she?"

"Not necessarily." Harry said slowly, not sure what other wizarding schools were around or if parents were allowed to homeschool their kids.

Ginny's eyes suddenly got very wide. "Oh, Harry! She's a muggle, isn't she!"

Ginny's statement left no room for contradiction, but he somehow felt that she disapproved so he quickly corrected her. "No, no, she's very much a witch."

Ginny seemed placated momentarily then she asked, "So where does she go?"

Suddenly, Harry alighted on inspiration, remembering something the little git Malfoy had said a while back, _'Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know.'_

Harry silently thanked the foul kid for bragging so loudly that day, and hesitantly he said, "She goes to Durmstrang."

He should have just said she was a muggle.

When he'd finally been able to calm Ginny down, she seethed at him, "They're all foul! They stand against everything we're fighting towards! Have you really forgotten that? I mean, really, they have a Death Eater as a Headmaster, for Merlin's sake!"

Harry decided that if he was going to have a fake girlfriend, he might as well defend her. Firmly, he spoke, "You'll remember, Ginny, that their Headmaster is no longer Karkaroff, just as you would do well to remember that not everyone falls under the label you choose to stick them under." And, seeing an opportunity to get himself out of this horrid conversation, he rose to leave. "Goodnight."

Ginny simply stared at the door after he'd gone. Why was he smiling as he left? Was it because he'd won the argument? Or was he lying? No, she decided, he must just really like this girl. She crawled into bed, but found sleep wouldn't come. A while later, when Hermione came in she was still up and the two chatted until Ginny could finally find sleep.

* * *

As soon as Harry closed the door, he smiled to himself, he'd actually been able to cover his tail, lay a convincing lie, and win an argument against a Weasley all in one conversation. He laughed as he went up the stairs. They all definitely belonged in Slytherin.

When he opened Ron's door, the other boy was already asleep. Harry pulled out the letter anyway and reread it, against the soft light of his wand. He'd said he was worried. Harry was unsure how that made him feel. He'd never felt worried about before.

He grabbed a quill and another sheet of parchment and began his reply.

Less than a half hour later, he'd finished, his letter much longer than the past one.

It read:

_'I guess you're right, it's not terribly uneventful. Why just this morning I woke up to a bird sitting on my chest! Imagine my surprise! Now the whole Weasley family has latched on to these letters and are attempting to follow me everywhere I go. It's most annoying. Luckily, your kestrel won't let anyone except myself near her so the letters are safe._

_'We, too, will be safe sneaking around the castle. Filch will be no problem. He's not exactly light on his feet._

_'Thank you for worrying over me. I'd not expected it. Why'd you take me with you though? I imagine I must have been a rather sorry sight, but that doesn't truly answer my question._

_'-H-_

Harry couldn't send the letter however because the falcon was nowhere to be found. Assuming it'd gotten hungry and left to hunt, Harry tucked the letters into his pillow case and welcomed sleep.

He woke much more peacefully the next morning, and, finding himself alone in the room, assumed breakfast was ready or would be shortly. He was right, and the awaited smell of bacon greeted him as he entered the kitchen. What he did not expect to be greeted with, however, was the tirade of giggles that erupted the moment he walked in the door.

Hermione and Ginny were watching him closely, and as he looked down at himself to find the source of the laughter, they only sniggered louder. Ignoring it to be dealt with later, Harry helped himself to a plateful of bacon and took his seat.

True to his rationale, Hermione dragged him out on his own after breakfast to say "Oh, Harry why didn't you tell me the other day?" she whispered, "Maybe we can double-date!"

Harry's mouth fell open as he realised what had happened and no sooner than he turned to look for her, Ginny appeared at Hermione's side.

"Girlcode." Was all she said to his spluttered question as to what she'd done.

"What?" He whisper-yelled.

"I had to tell her; we were sharing a room and she was worried about you."

This brought him up short. Two people worried about him? That had to be a new record for him.

"What I don't understand, Harry, is that she's from Durmstrang."

Defensively, Harry glanced at Ginny, "Well, I told her last night that-"

"No, no, I don't care that she goes to Durmstrang. I just don't get how she's going to bring your stuff to the castle when her school's in another country!"

Harry's mouth fell open at the same time as Ginny's. He hadn't thought of that, and, apparently, she hadn't, either. Trust Hermione to not miss a thing.

"You little liar!" Ginny shouted, pointing so closely to his face that he went cross-eyed.

"So who is she, Harry?" Hermione was quick to defuse the tension.

"Well, I, er…"

"Oh, don't bother, Hermione," Ginny cut in, turning to leave, "he obviously doesn't trust us." The look in her eyes dared him to contradict her.

And he did, "With good reason, because you couldn't keep your trap shut for one measly night! What would happen when you're sharing a room with four other Gryffindor's all year? The whole school would know everything within a week!"

She dropped her eyes at the accusation, shame colouring her cheeks, "I'm sorry, Harry," she offered, "I didn't think of it like that."

And he had to believe her.

* * *

True to her shame, Ginny dropped the matter entirely. She was not about to upset Harry any more than she already had. While she was curious and dying to know who would leave Harry so secretive, he was family, and she wouldn't betray that.

* * *

Quite oppositely, the whole exchange only made the Granger girl more determined to discover this fabled girl. Surreptitiously, she doggedly stalked Harry's movements throughout the remaining days at the Burrow, having much more success than Ginny.

Whereas Ginny had made the mistake of trying to find out what Harry was doing by trying to read over his shoulder and glean information from peppered questions, Hermione simply observed Harry. She diligently noted when he seemed happiest and when he solitarily excused himself to the quiet reprieve of Ron's room. She gauged his reactions to the bird's arrivals, and his conversations with the varied Weasleys. By the end of summer break, she'd reached her conclusion:

Harry didn't have a girlfriend at all.

He was replacing them.

* * *

Harry was quite happy in his oblivion of Hermione's observations. His correspondent had become much more open in their letter writing and it was almost like he was sitting down to dinner with him again.

Their letters lengthed, now becoming three and four pages. Contentedly, they began to share detailed accounts of one another's days and commentary and advice to deal with little problems and small annoyances. Harry'd even mentioned his lie and blunder, unexpectedly getting a humourous reply.

No, to Harry, all was right in the world, and as the final school-free day approached him, his letter was only slightly tinged his apprehension. He was still unsure how this would all play out during the school year but he was not at all dubious that he and his friend would become, if anything, even closer.


	6. Ch 6: Return to King's Cross

CH6 Return to King's Cross

The fated day arrived and the four children packed together all of their things and wildly departed with the members of the Weasley clan that would be accompanying them to the station.

Everyone awoke that morning with a buzz of growing excitement. Everyone, that is, except the one brunette girl who awoke to a sense of dread. This was completely new to her. She'd always felt nothing but anticipation to returning to the school year, even in the Muggle world.

She supposed she had multiple reasons for being nervous about this year as she never had before.

First off, but mainly trivial, Harry now knew her secret. While she was confident that he'd tell no one, it still made her wonder what he thought of her now.

Then, there was the matter that she was leaving Fred behind. She was quite aware that they could meet up on Hogsmeade weekends and that she'd lasted every year so far without him consistently by her side, but somehow it felt wrong. Over the past two weeks, they'd grown even closer, and she could now, by sight alone, tell the twins apart better than their own mother. She knew his business was booming, but she still vied for one last chance to say goodbye as he'd needed to get back to work and would not be joining them this morning.

Finally, she was downright grieving over the fact that her closest friend was pulling away from her. She knew in her heart of hearts that Harry would always be there for her and that she should give him space, but she so desperately wanted to cling to him as she and Harmony had so playfully clung to their father's legs when they were younger.

It was on the latter of the three that she focused as she solemnly dressed and dragged her trunk down the busy staircase. Bill, kind as he was adventurous, noticed this before she'd hardly stepped out of Ginny's room.

Catching her by the arm, he studied her eyes. "Now, what's bothering you on your favourite day of the year?"

Forcing a smile, she answered, "I guess I was just too excited to sleep well last night. I'm still a tad tired."

Not fully convinced, Bill decided to let it slide, he knew the boys would be able to pry it out of her later.

Traversing down the stairs they commenced in smalltalk. Bill was having quite a wonderful time planning his wedding with Fleur. They laughed about all of her antics and over-the-top requests that he'd again and again had to talk her down from.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised when she and Bill got to the main floor landing and she saw the twins picking up the trunks already by the door to stow them in the car. Bill, having assumed Hermione's mood had brightened because of his humour, took his leave to help Fred and George pack the car.

Fred and George, it seemed, could only be spared for enough time to say their last goodbyes and would not be accompanying everyone to the station, and, as the car was rather small, only the four children and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were to be going anyway. Instead, they stood by the door to the towering cottage as the four departees jockeyed for the better car seat.

Seeing Fred wink at her and stealthily step into the doorway of his home, Hermione took her opportunity at a last goodbye. Feigning forgetfulness, she ran back to the house on the pretense of getting a book. The door had barely closed when she was forcefully pushed into it.

"I'm going to miss you, Mi." Fred whispered between kisses.

The exchanged lasted only a few moments, but Hermione found herself dizzied. He must really mean it, she thought, for they'd stolen chaste kisses before, but nothing to this extent. "Oh, Fred!" She whispered throwing her arms around his neck in an embrace, their bodies pressed closely together.

Quickly, they released each other and he handed her a nearby book about medical potions. She took it and whirled out the door. He watched her go until the last of her shining, bushy hair had disappeared and the door had closed. He leaned back against the wall and quietly whistled one low note. He was lucky.

The car ride to the train station was filled with impatience as the four teens contemplated the year ahead of them. Harry, half lost in his own thoughts, was marginally subdued, but Hermione's revitalization from her tissy this morning more than made up for it.

When she'd initially gotten into the car, Ron had been puzzled and questioned about the medical journal in her hand. Having barely looked at what it was, Hermione just shrugged noncommittally, "It's interesting," was all she offered before she asked them all what classes they were most looking forward to.

This was greeted by a groan from the other three and Ron instead asked Harry who he thought would be the Quidditch captain this year. The four of them were quickly caught up in the conversation, Ron and Ginny saying it'd definitely be Harry, while Hermione and Harry said it was likely to be a seventh year like Katie Bell.

Entering the station, their party got many odd glances. Harry and Hermione had neglected to look at what the Weasleys were wearing and were therefore shocked when they saw an assortment of odd articles; chiefly attracting the attention were the dress pants, ponchos, and leather biker jackets that the Weasley's had deemed appropriate.

Sharing a look of horror, Harry and Hermione quickened their pace. Once successfully inside the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, Hermione told the Weasley's they might consider simply Apparating home, taking the hint, they quickly agreed.

Once they were on the train and searching for a compartment, Hermione's fear encroached again. She kept darting glances behind her to make sure Harry was still there, every time breathing a sigh of relief when he was.

The usual pattern of banter on the train was not varied at all from the years past, and shortly they were joined by Neville and Luna.

The train took off to the usual shouts of goodbye and final waves, then everyone made themselves comfortable for the long ride.

Halfway through the ride, the three girls excused themselves to change into their robes, while the boys did the same in their compartment.

Quietly, though for no apparent reason, Ron leaned in to Harry and said, "Mate, I think Hermione's sweet on you!"

Neville looked up from folding his trousers at this, but Harry just laughed aloud. "You're mental if you think that!"

"Why would it be mental? Did you see the way she was watching you when we got on the train? She was looking over her shoulder every few moments as if to make sure you were still here!"

Harry was startled. It was unusual for Ron to catch something he hadn't and disconcerting to think that what he said may be true.

Meanwhile, the girls were having a similar discussion in the lavatory.

"Hermione, what's up with you today?" Ginny asked casually. "Actually, you've been odd for a couple days now."

"Yes, I did notice that you were surprisingly quiet." Luna spoke up, in her usual airy tone, "Not that I minded, of course."

Hermione huffed at Luna. "Nothing's wrong, Ginny. I've just.." she struggled for the right wording, lamely finishing with, "had a lot on my mind."

Ginny caught on quickly, "This wouldn't have anything to do with what I told you the other day would it? I know you and he are close, but I didn't think it was like that."

"What? No!" she quickly reassured her friend, "It's nothing like that, but yes, it is about what you told me. I'll tell you more later." She shot a look at Luna, though the girl didn't appear to be paying attention as she was looking, carefully, down the sink drain.

Ginny nodded and the three left the lavatory.

Their arrival back in the compartment cut the boys' conversation off mid-sentence. Harry had been in the middle of telling Ron and Neville that Hermione and Ginny had been following him the past couple days, for unknown reasons. When the door slid open, all the boys immediately leaned away from each other and stopped speaking.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at a worried-looking Hermione. Luna appeared to not notice anything, and she sat in her original seat between Neville and Ron and began avidly discussing the new edition of the Quibbler, featuring the Hairrinut root, with no one in particular.

Out of politeness' sake, Harry and Neville kept up the exchange until they could kindly change the subject to a more interesting matter. The rest of the train ride was focused on trivial topics, while Hermione glumly stared out the window.

Suddenly, she jumped up. Looking intently out the window she saw a speck growing much larger as it quickly neared the train from above. Just in time, Hermione magiced a sliding plate to the window and flung it open. The same kestrel that had been plaguing the Burrow for days, dive bombed straight into the new opening.

It shook itself out as it landed semi-gracefully on the carpet. Her eyes immediately found Harry's and she picked herself up to land on his knee in one dexterous sweep of her wings. As she patiently held out her leg, Harry untied the parchment, and, curiously, the bird took flight again, this time coming to land on Luna's lap. She seemed pleased by this and began stroking the bird's feathers at once, saying, "Aren't you going to open it, Harry?"

As Harry situated himself in the corner of the compartment so no one could read over his shoulder, Ginny and Hermione shared a look. While neither believed Harry could possibly be dating loony Luna Lovegood, there was something decidedly strange about the whole thing.

Harry read the letter quickly; it was short.

_H,_

_ Tomorrow. Midnight._

_ The Room of Requirement._

_yours truly_

Harry nodded, a smile smile tugging at the corners of his lips. To the shock of everyone in the room, he pulled out his wand and lit the letter on fire. Small as it was, it had burned to ashes before it hit the floor.

"What on earth, Harry!" Hermione shouted.

"Less evidence." Was Harry's only reply.

* * *

Severus Snape paced angrily in his office. Oh, how he hated this school. On top of having to deal with the little brats day in and day out, Dumbledore had now assigned him patrol duty on the two nights back. And in a row! No matter, he thought to himself, he'd just have to make up for the lack of sleep by handing out extra detentions to whomever he found lurking after hours.

* * *

Across the castle Dumbledore smiled to himself, eyes twinkling. He bundled up the package that he was meant to be delivered tomorrow night and chuckled at the memory of the look on young Severus' face when he'd informed the man that he couldn't do rounds the next night and Snape'd have to fill in.


	7. Ch 7: Meeting Harry's Friend

**A/N: I hope you guys realise how excited I am all day on Mondays now. I seriously can't wait to post for you (but if I screw up my schedule, I won't be able to function so…)! Anyway! I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not making money from this. Also hope you don't mind that this is a long chapter; it's about twice the usual length. I didn't notice that until I was about to post! Oops! Enjoy!**

* * *

CH7 Meeting Harry's Friend

As was usual, the returning students all took the carriages up to the school. The thestrals held sad memories for Harry, but he was no longer afraid of them and stroked one's neck as he walked by.

Sitting in the carriage with the same people he'd just shared the compartment with, the ride to school, mercifully, was uneventful, unlike years past.

Entering the Great Hall, Harry's breath was stolen all over again at the magnificent room. He felt eleven again, the wonder of a new world upon him. The ceiling was bewitched to look as the night sky, but tonight shooting stars of purple and green soared above their heads. Bidding Luna, goodbye, they all took their normal seats at their table.

When everyone had found a spot, the first years arrived, lead by Professor McGonagall. The imposing woman was swiftly walking down the aisle, oblivious to or ignoring the children's wondrous exclamations at the room that rivaled anything they'd seen before. When they'd quieted the Sorting House spoke up.

"Many years have come and passed

and children, too, will come and go

Listen, should you wish to last

Find the past and then you'll know!

"Hufflepuff is kind at heart

Gryffindor, brave and true

Ravenclaw is much too smart

While Slytherin's been made anew!

"Hold fast, dear ones,

the end is near!

Let go, young ones,

don't ever fear!"

The last note rang out over the confused audience. What on earth did that mean? Were the Slytherin's on their side now?

The Sorting commenced and Harry took the chance to discuss it with his friends.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron spoke up first.

"I think it means the Slytherins are on our side, now." Hermione answered.

"I think so too." Harry piped up.

"How would a bloody hat know?" Ron doubted.

"Think about it." Hermione reasoned, "It's never been wrong before. And it sees into _every student's head_."

Ron snorted, "That doesn't mean it won't be wrong this time."

"True, but-"

Harry cut her off before they could get into a full-fledged argument. "Hang on. What'd it mean by 'Ravenclaw is _much too smart_'. Do you think they know something we don't?"

Before anyone could answer though, Dumbledore was speaking, "Ah, well, another year is soon to be underway! I'll not doddle, then, tuck in!"

The glorious gold dishes shone, laden under many foods. Harry couldn't wait to taste them all. He wasn't, however, as ravenous at the sight as he was most years. In all honesty, he thought to himself, he'd rather the quiet kitchen he'd spent most suppers in over the summer.

Full and satisfied, Harry was one of the first to finish eating, much to the amazement of Ron, who was still stuffing everything he could reach into his gaping maw.

When finally the food had been wiped from the china, Dumbledore stood once more. "I welcome you and welcome you back to another sure-to-be fantastic year at our grand school! Now, a damper on the fun for which I must apologise! The Forbidden Forest is, not surprisingly, forbidden, but also out of bounds this year is the Black Lake. It seems our squid friend has been worked into a frenzy over something this year, and, until we are able to find just what, it has been deemed unsafe.

"Now, on a happier note! I'm pleased to welcome to our staff, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher! Professor Amora Vincintia has agreed to fill our recently emptied position, and we all thank her kindly!"

The very beautiful young woman Dumbledore had motioned to, gave a very sheepish wave. She was quite small, and no one had noticed her before, but not all eyes were glued to her beauty as Dumbledore continued.

"Now, we have rather large day for us tomorrow. Pip! Pip! Off to bed with us! Goodnight!"

Harry walked with Ginny and Neville to their common room, while Hermione and Ron went to herd the first years away. As they walked, they talked about the new teacher.

"She don't look like much that's for sure." Harry remarked.

Neville and Ginny just looked at him. "She's gorgeous, Harry." Ginny remarked, casting a side glance at Neville to see if he agreed. He kept his face very neutral.

"I didn't mean like that. She looks like she's afraid of us; I don't think she looks like a Professor, much less a Defence Professor."

Neville shrugged. "Looks might surprise you. I mean, look at my Gran. If you didn't know her you'd think she was just a little old lady, but once she opens her mouth…" he shuddered.

"Bad summer?" Ginny asked.

"She'd not happy with the number of OWLs that I got. I don't know what I want to do yet, but she says I might as well just drop out now."

"Oh, Neville! That's simply dreadful!" Ginny cried.

"Yeah, Nev. Don't listen to her. She's probably just trying to push you to do better." Harry agreed.

Neville did look slightly happier as he mumbled, "Maybe a soft Professor won't be so bad."

Harry patted him on the back. "So you're still taking Defence Against the Dark Arts this year?"

"Yeah, it's one of the classes that Gran was actually happy with my OWL. Think you'll still do DA this year, Harry?"

The rest of the way to the Common Room was spent discussing classes and things to cover in DA this year. Though it wasn't strictly necessary to have it, all of the people Harry, Ginny, and Neville had talked to said they really wanted it to continue. Harry didn't see a reason not to.

When they'd reached the portrait of the fat lady, most of the other Gryffindors had already arrived and were piling through the opening in the wall one-by-one. Slowly, Harry made his way up to the portrait and climbed inside.

The room was covered in red and gold. Everything from the furniture to the tapestries to the carpets screamed with Lion Pride. Tiredly, Harry neglected his usual overstuffed armchair and headed directly for the stairs, scanning the room for Ron as he went. Not finding him, Harry figured he must already be upstairs and bid Neville and Ginny goodnight.

The two stood for a moment watching him leave. Then, realising they were alone with each other, blushed furiously and turned away without a word to join their respective groups of friends.

Harry was not at all surprised to see his things lying at the foot of his bed, but he was startled to see Ron asleep, face-down on Harry's own bed. Laughing, Harry walked over and nudged his friend in the ribs. The only reaction was that Ron let out a huge snore. Harry decided to take drastic measures and jumped on the bed just near Ron's head.

With a start, Ron jumped up, and quickly realised where he was. "Oh, sorry. I guess I'm just beat."

Harry fell to sit cross-legged in the centre of his bed. "Why were you on my bed?"

"I wanted to talk to you. What do you think the Hat meant by all that mumbo jumbo? Do you really think Hermione's right and the Snakes are on our side?"

"I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't think she was right. What I'm stuck on is what the Hat meant by the Ravenclaws."

Ron just shook his head; he had no clue.

"See," Harry continued, "I'm just afraid that we've been trusting the wrong crowd, and if we have, there's nothing we can do about it now. The Slytherins want nothing to do with us and we can't sever ties with the Ravenclaws until we're sure about all this."

"And we're sure not sure." Ron added.

Harry laughed. "Oh, well, maybe sleeping on it will help."

"Yeah," Ron agreed wholeheartedly, "Night."

"Night."

* * *

The next morning in the Great Hall, there was uncommonly little noise. Most of the students weren't used to waking up this early so almost everyone was still half asleep. When Ron and Harry finally appeared, still yawning and rubbing sleep from their eyes, Hermione had already been there a half hour.

"I have your time tables," she said by way of greeting. "You're not going to like them."

Ron groaned. "Just kill me now."

"Relax. You haven't even seen it yet." Hermione handed him the parchment.

"Potions first! On Mondays!" Ron cried. "Now will you kill me?"

Dreading their day, the three trudged down to the dungeons. Taking their seats from the year before, they observed who was in their class. Because it was an advanced class, all four houses were combined.

The houses had split up into groups. In the front of the room, nearest Snape's desk, the Ravenclaws had had set up their territory. The Slytherins were in the right corner of the room, also in the front. The Gryffindors took the back right corner, the furthest from Snape, and the Hufflepuffs stood in the hallway until just before the bell, murmuring nervously.

The bell had barely rung when Snape stormed into the room in a whirl of black robes. "In your seats, turn to page 12. Begin."

Not surprisingly, Hermione finished a decent amount of time before the rest of the class. Her sleeping potion was the perfect shade of sky blue described in the book. Harry glanced down at his lumpy green mess.

The bell rang as Professor Snape walked by Harry's table. "What a mess. I won't even grade that, Potter." With a swish of his wand, Harry's potion was gone.

Walking from the room, Harry sighed. Some things never changed. Ron tried to comfort him saying, "He's just a git, Harry. Don't worry about it."

But Hermione was having none of that, "You did do the potion horribly wrong, though. To do it that badly, you'd have had to messed up in at least a dozen places."

"Thanks." Harry said flatly, picking up his pace.

Hermione was left behind, and she realised her mistake. He wasn't leaving her behind. She was pushing him away with her behaviour. She frowned and hurried after them.

The rest of the day was a breeze. Because it had been a double Potions, they were able to go straight to lunch afterwards. Then they had a double Charms with the Ravenclaws.

* * *

That night, Harry lay awake in bed, waiting for the time that he could sneak out of the Common room without detection. His thoughts drifted through the events of the day but always returned to the same thing.

The Hat's song was still bugging him. What did it all mean? He drifted and soon fell asleep to a strange dream of being surrounded by millions of hats of all kinds. They were suffocating him and he was unable to push them away. He woke with a start and a memory of an assortment of top hats and bowlers, but with no clear reason why.

Groggily, he cast a spell to hover the time in the air in front of his face. It was nearly midnight. Harry, still dressed in his school robes, threw off the bed covers, grabbed his invisibility cloak, and ran out the door. Quickly, he scrambled down the stairs and out the portrait door, leaving a stunned Hermione sitting in the corner of the Common Room with tears filling her large, brown eyes.

* * *

Across the castle, Snape huffed angrily. There was no point to this. No child would be out of bed at this hour anyway. He turned the corner to the staircase leading to the fifth floor.

* * *

In his office, Dumbledore tucked the package under his cloak. He normally didn't stay awake this long, but this was important, was it not? Smiling, his swept out of his office to deliver the bundle.

* * *

Harry entered the Room of Requirement and was astonished to find the room was empty. The room hadn't even provided anything for the encounter. Harry didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't want to sit on the floor as he felt that might be a childish move. He cast the time spell and saw it was just past midnight. He removed the cloak, and looked around the room again. He noticed a green, suede easy chair in the centre of the room now. He took a seat to await the expected arrival.

* * *

Dumbledore turned to the staircase, buzzing with excitement. He could not wait to meet with his young friend.

* * *

Snape stalked the corridors. He stumbled across a door that wasn't on any map. Of course, he'd heard of the Room of Requirement and was aware of what it did. He just didn't expect anyone to be in there so early.

Swiftly moving towards the heavy oak door and pulling it open, he stepped inside just as Dumbledore turned to face the corridor.

Severus saw the dark chair facing away from the door. He allowed a spare smile to grace his face as he went to greet the late-night wanderer.

* * *

Dumbledore continued down the hallway and opened the grand oak door, sitting just inside was his friend, relaxing in her easy chair. "Good evening, Professor Vincintia, I trust classes are going well?"

"Wonderful Albus! Thank you for agreeing to meet me at such a late hour, couldn't ruin the surprise could I?"

"No, no!" the old man agreed, handing her the bundle, "But what, may I ask, is this for?"

"Oh! Dumbledore! I shan't ruin the fun, shan't I?"

He laughed, but was indeed curious. They spent a spell talking about the new year, but, alas, it was late and an old man, such as himself, needed sleep. He bid her goodnight and took his leave.

* * *

The door closed softly behind Severus as he made his way to the chair. At the noise, Harry's ears perked up. He turned in his chair to face the new arrival.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Snape replied silkily.

Harry was startled by this. He was aware of the growing friendship, but he didn't expect such a comment from a man like this. Still, he smiled as Snape moved to stand in front of Harry's chair. He didn't seem to want a seat or one would have appeared.

"Do you have what I forgot?" Harry asked.

"I do, indeed." He replied, but he made no move to take anything out of a pocket and Harry saw he wasn't carrying anything. He hesitated.

"Harry, it's less of something you forgot, and more something I forgot to give you."

"Oh?" That explained the lack of missing articles, but Harry, for the life of him, couldn't imagine what Snape would want to give him.

Leaning so their faces were level, Snape studied Harry's eyes. Captivated, Harry could only look back into the abyss of darkness that he was pinned under.

Slowly, giving Harry time to move, Severus reached out a hand to touch Harry's neck. Confused, Harry made no move to get away. With new confidence, Severus leaned in and caught Harry's young supple lips in a kiss.

In a flash, it was over and Snape was his usual height, menacing and proud, but Harry still had the lingering feeling of the slight pressure, still saw the vulnerability in those bottomless eyes.

He didn't know how to react.

On one hand, it was a shock. He wondered if he was shell-shocked, but didn't think he was. He could stir or speak if he chose to do so, he just didn't know what action to take so he stayed still.

He pondered the implication wildly. Did this mean Severus found him...attractive? Did he think they were, or could be, more than friends? Harry mentally shook his head; that was absurd. Then he wondered, was it? Would Snape have done all those things this summer if he simply saw Harry as another student? He didn't reckon he would. Still, it was such a shock.

The openness in his eyes had spoken volumes, Harry just wished he knew what they were saying or why it had closed off as soon as the moment was over.

Severus cleared his throat softly, startling Harry away from his thoughts. He realised at once that he had brought up his hand to touch his lips, and immediately moved it back to the armrest. He realised that for all the confusion, he didn't feel upset. He wasn't angry or disgusted, just befuddled. All at once, he realised the action Severus had taken was not, in fact, unwelcome.

How odd.

"'How odd?'" Severus repeated.

Harry looked up again, not noticing that he'd spoken aloud, quite sure he hadn't, in fact. Severus had a small smile playing on the corners of his lips but worry in his eyes.

"Yeah. Odd." Harry answered, slightly nervous now that he had concluded he was in a situation of which he had no understanding.

A chair appeared behind Severus, who promptly sat. "I'm sorry." He looked stricken, gazing at his feet as if he were horrified at what he'd done.

"Don't be." Harry replied automatically.

Severus looked up at Harry's face, eyes searching every feature for a hint of what the other was thinking.

Usually quite open, Harry's expression gave nothing away.

After a few moments of tensed silence, Harry laughed. "You do realise I have no idea what's going on, right?"

Snape looked at the man before him. He'd faced murderers countless times and he couldn't recognise a display of affection for what it was. It was so sad it made his heart ache.

Not to be regarded as soft, Severus smirked. "It means," he said testily, "that I-" but he couldn't finish. What did it mean? He'd spent countless hours figuring out what to do, and how to do it, and what to say and yet he'd spent not one moment looking at his reasoning.

"What?" Harry cut in, skeptically, sarcastically, "that you like me?"

While that came as closely to what Snape himself was close to concluding, he couldn't admit it, not to himself, and certainly not out loud.

"Don't be ridiculous." He waved the notion off.

"Then what?"

Yes, that was the million galleon question. What did it mean? Why had he done it? Without consciously making the decision, he rose and left the room in a whirl of black robes.

He stood in the hallway for a moment, breathing hard. After all that planning, had he really not contemplated Harry's reaction? His own reasons? All that time to think of the best way to show how he felt, and it came to such a pathetic end. How would he ever show his face again?

* * *

Dumbledore left Professor Vincintia's offices and strolled the hallways leisurely. That package was still puzzling him. Why on earth would she need diamond shards?

He smiled. It must be a grand surprise.

* * *

Harry waited a moment by the door. He couldn't hear footsteps moving away, but he also couldn't hear anyone out there. He was sure Snape had left. Quietly but quickly, he opened the door, neglecting his cloak, and slipped into the hall, only to run into the Potions teacher's back. He stumbled back a step, hoping to go back into the Room, but the door had sealed shut, and it was too late, Snape had already turned around.

Seeing him, clearly upset, in the dim lighting of the torches, his heart went out to the man. Harry wanted nothing more than to extend comfort to him, if only he knew how. With only offering consolation in mind, Harry found that he was reaching towards Snape. Soon, Severus was holding him too, but it was Harry this time that pressed their lips together.

* * *

Dumbledore turned a corner, and quickly spun around to retrace his steps in the opposite direction. There was no Common Room nearby so he didn't know who the students were, but he'd seen a sweet couple standing by the entrance to the Room of Requirement. He wondered if they knew it was there, he rather thought not, and whether or not they'd find it tonight.

They were quite an odd couple, he thought as he went off in search of the other stairway, the lady, it seemed, was much taller than the young lad.

Dumbledore smiled; as long as they were happy and didn't let Professor Snape catch them, all was well.

* * *

Snape pulled back to gasp a breath. "Harry. You don't have to-"

Harry hushed him. "I know I don't."

Severus' heart swelled. He didn't know where this would go. He didn't know what this even was. But Harry had told him that he'd wanted to be doing this, whatever 'this' was.

Seeming to know he'd said something significant, Harry stepped back. Severus immediately dropped his hands from the other's waist, searching for the reason of his sudden move. Harry, unable to meet those deep, ebony eyes, watched the floor, a slow, hot blush creeping up his neck to his face. What on earth had he done?

"I should go." He blurted suddenly, then winced at the hurt on Severus' face. How was it possible that in the span of just a few months, he could grow to mean that much to a man who'd once hated him?

When Severus didn't give any sort of reply, Harry nodded once and hurried off down the hall, completely forgetting to shield himself with invisibility.

* * *

Hermione was content to stay up and await Harry's return. She sat in a chair near the middle of the Common Room and spun it so if half-faced the door. There she sat staring at the back of the portrait. After about a half-hour, she started to get drowsy, and before the clock chimed one, she'd fallen asleep.

Harry, who'd stumbled into the Common Room at a near run, halted the moment he saw her. Had she seen him leave? Of course she did, he chastised himself, why else would she be sitting there like that?

Harry started to sneak past her but hesitated. That did look awfully uncomfortable. He sighed. Nudging her shoulder gently, he roused her. Slowly, she surfaced from sleep.

"Go to bed, Hermione." He whispered.

Her eyes snapped open. "Where _have_ you _been_?" She demanded of him, and he was forcefully reminded of Molly the summer before his second year. Fred was in for it when he realised he was dating a younger version of his mother. "You can't just sneak out in the middle of the night! For goodness' sake, Harry! Do you want to get detention on the second night here?"

When he didn't answer as he thoughts drifted back to what had just happened. Were he and Severus dating? She just looked at him, waiting. That was all she really had to say, and normally it was enough to make him sorry or argue until she had something else to say. Instead, his eyes just drifted away from her face like he wasn't even listening, but thinking about something else.

"Harry!"

"Huh?" His eyes snapped back to focus. "Oh, right, detention. No, of course I don't want detention, but this was important!"

"What was it, then?"

"Er…"

"Come on. If it was so important, tell me."

"I'm not sure that'd be a good idea." he began, "I'm still not even sure what it _is_."

"If Hagrid already has another-"

"No, no, nothing like that!"

"Then what?" her voice was steadily rising in pitch, but Harry didn't seem at all stressed.

"I don't know." He said, his eyes drifting away again. "'Night." and with that he turned and was gone.

They both went to bed after that, and, while Hermione fell into an angry sleep within minutes, Harry lay awake for another hour before drifting off.

**A/N: So! It's revealed! Pleasepleaseplease tell me your thoughts! I'm dying to know what you think!**


	8. Ch 8: The Day After

**A/N:Hey guys! Not making money from this! I don't own anything but the plot and select original characters!**

* * *

CH8 The Day After

The following morning, Harry rose and dressed for breakfast. He didn't have Potions that day so he headed down to the Great Hall with the other Gryffindors in a pleasant mood.

Little known to him, Hermione was watching for him avidly as she read.

When they entered the Great Hall, everyone took their usual seat, Harry, Ron, and Neville on one side, Hermione on the other. She, strangely, already had her nose buried in a book. Sharing an exasperated look with his friends, Harry asked, "Hermione, what're you reading?"

"It's a project."

"How could you already have a project? We didn't get one yesterday!" Ron spluttered, looking to the two other boys for confirmation.

"No, it's not a school project." Hermione answered, but gave no other information.

"What's this?" Ginny walked up and snatched the book from Hermione as she took the empty seat next to her.

"Nothing!" Hermione tried to snatch it back, but Ginny simply tossed it to Neville.

"Psychology?" He asked puzzled.

"That's Muggle!" Harry said taking it, "What do you want with that?"

"I thought it might help me understand a few things." She said evasively.

"You're perfectly normal, Hermione. You don't need this." Neville said gently.

If looks could kill, Neville would have been dead on the spot. "It's not for _my_ behaviour. It's to understand someone else's. Someone's been keeping secrets." Hermione looked pointedly at Harry, and Ginny sniggered.

"I've been under a microscope since I was eleven, Hermione, and we all have things we'd rather everyone not know." He said evenly.

Oblivious to the underlying meaning of the conversation, Ron broke in. "What's a microscope?"

After a moment, Hermione looked away from Harry, "It's a muggle contraption to look at things that are normally too small to see."

"Why not just make them bigger?" Ginny asked.

"They don't have magic; they can't." Hermione answered, then stood to snatch her book back from Harry, who pulled it away.

"You don't need this."

"Yes, I do."

"No. You don't. We all have secrets if you'll remember. I'd like to keep mine."

Now, everyone within earshot of the debate was turning to look. As they fell silent, more people became aware of what was going on. The only thing that saved them from teachers stepping in was the mail, which conveniently, began to arrive.

The expected parcels were brought for kids who'd left things behind or from parents asking how the first day had gone, but, surprisingly, Harry and Hermione both got letters. Immediately, they both ripped the parchment from the birds, Harry taking a moment to stroke Hedwig's feathers in thanks, and, distracted, dropped the dispute.

As soon as she saw the handwriting, Hermione began blushing feverously. Harry, on the other hand, looked downright terrified. Both rose to excuse themselves, having barely touched their food.

Momentarily, they froze, not wanting to leave with the other, but the need to read their letters in private overshadowed that, and they continued to rush towards the doors, letters in hand.

Once in the hall, they looked at each other and, without a word, started off in different directions.

Harry went just a corridor down before shutting himself up in a broom cupboard. He unrolled the parchment and began reading:

_H,_

_ I apologise. My actions were out of line._

_ Perhaps our correspondence should be cut off?_

_My apologies,_

_S_

Harry flipped over the letter. There was nothing else. Did this mean that he wasn't good enough anymore? He slid to the floor and rested his head in his hands. He should've been more thankful to Snape for everything he'd done this summer. He should have shown Severus what it meant to him to be cared for.

* * *

Off another hallway, Hermione was in the ladies' lavatory, locked in a stall. Her letter was vastly different from Harry's and she read:

_Mi,_

_How has your first day gone? I must admit after weeks of you being around it's odd to go back to letters. I miss talking with you._

_Tell me all about old Hoggy._

_love,_

_F_

Smiling, she reread the letter before pulling a parchment and ink from her stack of school things. She set in to spend the rest of breakfast time writing him back.

The foot of parchment drying, she headed off to class.

* * *

Harry wiped his eyes. He wouldn't cry; he wouldn't. This was so dumb, he told himself, 'I didn't even expect this until yesterday. I didn't _want_ this! Still don't!'

But the tears that kept filling his eyes told him otherwise. Furiously he wiped his face again before looking back at the letter. Should he even reply? He decided not to, knowing that Sev-no, Snape didn't want him to.

Rolling up the letter, he rose to go eat. He wouldn't let this ruin his day, and he wouldn't cry; he wouldn't.

Sitting back in his seat at the table, he was greeted only with questioning looks. Sniffing, he filled his plate and didn't meet one of them.

As they gathered their things to head to Herbology, he glanced at the Head Table. Both Snape and Dumbledore quickly looked away. Snape looked embarrassed.

'That was it,' Harry thought, silently following his friends, 'He's ashamed that he did that. He didn't mean to, and now he regrets it.'

Herbology passed uneventfully.

* * *

Dumbledore had caught Harry's glance and hurriedly looked towards Professors Sprouts' and McGonagalls' conversation next to him, trying to look interested.

What on earth was the boy so upset about? Intriguing.

* * *

A few seats down, Severus had also caught Harry's glance, though he grossly misread the emotions on young Potter's face. He thought the boy looked angry. The red patches on the boy's face told him as much. Harry was upset that he'd tried something like that. Severus sighed. The boy might never trust him again.

Moody, he didn't eat anything else, opting instead to go to the dungeons and prepare class for the young Ravenclaw first years.

The kids, though behaved, managed to explode two cauldrons and melt another during the advanced brewing. In their leaving they discussed the older kids' admonishments. Snape wasn't as bad as they'd said, in fact, he wasn't bad at all, they concluded. He didn't even give Sammi a detention for adding the salamander too early, causing her cloak to catch fire.

Distracted, Snape had repeatedly returned to his desk. Each time, he started another letter to Harry, and, each time, he threw it away. He'd already apologised; there was nothing else he could do.

* * *

That evening, Harry sat in the Common Room doing homework with Hermione. Though everyone else was playing or watching a game of Exploding Snap, he didn't feel up to it. Oblivious in her happiness, Hermione didn't comment on it.

Mistaking this for respectful silence, Harry was thankful. He vowed to put their feud behind them. He needed his real friends around him, not temporary ones. Still, Harry felt nagged about Severus' actions.

Without conscious decision, Harry pulled out a new sheet of parchment. Quickly, he scrawled across the sheet:

_Tell me why._

He meant to stop there but couldn't.

_Tell me why you took care of me, why you invited me to the Room, why you did what you did, why we have to stop talking._

_Tell me why you changed your mind so quickly. What'd I do? Tell me how to fix this, and I'll do it. I swear, I will._

Harry didn't realised that he had begun crying, and, jumping up, fled to the Owlery, tears still streaming.

Upon arrival, Harry scanned the birds for Hedwig. He didn't see her, but he did see Severus' kestrel, high on the top rafter.

"Eileen." He called and the bird came swooping towards him, landing gently on his arm.

Careful not to startle her, lest she dig her talons into his bare arm, he tied the parchment on her leg. "Take this to your Master." He whispered to her.

She was gone in a flurry of feathers, and immediately Harry regret his decision. Severus already made it clear he was embarrassed and wanted nothing to do with him.

Grabbing his hair and yanking, as if to pull it out of his head, he spun in a circle, stopping dead in his tracks to see Hermione standing there watching him quietly, a small smile playing with the tears in her eyes.

"You're in love." She said.


	9. Ch 9: Late Into The Night

**A/N: Don't own this! Make no money!**

**Golly guys! I'm so sorry! Going over (and over) everything I realized I left you on a cliff-hanger! I feel so bad now! Rest assured the new chapter is here, and, as promised, you will also get CH10 today, too!**

**Also, wait I forget…WAIT, NO I DON'T! Also! I went back through and reedited the previous chapters and added breaks where they were originally supposed to be (my fault, sorry!). So if you found something confusing, you might want to look back over it, as it may be clearer. Now, here we go:**

CH9 Late into the night

Harry and Hermione stayed up in the owlery late into the night. She told him she knew exactly what it felt like to be in his shoes; she, herself, hadn't known if Fred would have her. She said she'd spend all day looking out the window for his owl to come to her and told him how she felt when it didn't.

She didn't ask once who Harry was talking to. It didn't seem to matter to her. Harry could see the curiosity in her eyes when he said something particularly odd, like when he'd said 'I was taken care of, you know?', but other than that she just listened, offered support, and shared her own summer with him.

Of course, Harry didn't tell her everything and took a page out of her book, dropping the pronouns so he wasn't lying any longer. He couldn't do that, but he told her that he'd spent most of the summer at his friend's house, unable to stand the Dursley's. He told her that he hadn't expected to be anything else, hadn't given it a thought. He confided that he was with his friend the night before, where he'd had his second only kiss, followed by another, different kind of kiss in the hall. He confessed he was beyond confused and didn't know what to make of any of it.

She laughed, and sympathized, and marveled that someone so far beyond his years was new to something completely commonplace to the rest of them. And he laughed at her remark, saying, "I haven't the time, Hermione!"

All in all it was a grand evening, and Hermione came away content in her friendship, Harry having reassured her that she would always be dear to him.

Harry, too, came away content. He knew Hermione would keep his secret safe, and it was good to be able to talk to someone about what was going on. He'd even told her about the note that he'd gotten this morning. She was sympathetic and reasoned that there might be other things going on that he'd not thought of. Though skeptical, he agreed and asked her if him sending another note was a good idea or not. She told him it would help clear the air.

Both tired from the night before, they were happy to retire to their waiting beds, though they'd gotten nearly no homework finished.

Harry's complacency however was short lived, as when he reached his floor of the bed chambers, he found Eileen waiting for him on the outside windowsill, a note tied to her foot.

* * *

Severus had retired to his chambers directly after dinner, but was woken abruptly around eleven that evening when Eileen had swooped down the chute specifically for her that connected his rooms to the outside.

Groggily, he cursed whoever had sent him a letter at this time of the night. Didn't they know he'd patrolled the corridors for the past two nights? Angry he decided to toss the letter aside for the morning.

He rolled over and returned to sleep.

Less than a minute after he'd entered his slumber, the nudge of a beak awakened him. He woke up and the kestrel was sitting on his pillow, the letter in her smooth beak. He took it from her and began reading, instantly recognising the familiar scrawl.

Wide awake now, he read and reread the letter at least four times. When he was sure he'd seen it correctly, he abandoned his warm bed to go to his office where he removed his own sheet of parchment.

He began writing. He explained everything, silently cursing himself for every teardrop that had befallen upon the paper. It took him nearly an hour, Eileen watching him the whole while, but he finished.

Slowly, carefully, he rolled it and tied it to the bird's leg, sending her off while he waited.

* * *

Harry unrolled the note, realising that it was quite long. He sat on the foot of his bed and began to read.

_H,_

_I apologise. Harry, I did not mean to cause you pain. I__ thought __I don't know what I thought. I just know I'm sorry, Harry, so sorry._

_ I've worried over you since you first came to this school. You never knew how much I cared. No one did. When you'd grown, I came into a realisation: I didn't just care. I'd do anything for you. Harry, I still would._

_ I'm sorry for the way that I've treated you so horridly. Part of it was cover for my mission, but part of it was denial of how I felt. Again, I'm so sorry._

_ This summer, knowing you were alone and had lost the only family you'd had, I couldn't stand to leave you that way. This is why I came to Privet Drive. I wanted to know that my decision to exile you from your friends to deal with your loss was not hurting you. When I found that it was, I did the only thing I could think to do. I took you. I took care of you because there was nothing else for me to do. It hurt me to see you that way._

_ Over those weeks, I came to know you in a way that I've never known anyone before._

_ Harry, I came to love you._

_ While I realise that you might not reciprocate these feelings, I had to try. I needed to know that I meant something to you. I understand that I still might not be the same to you as you are to me, but this is why I invited you to the Room. I was selfish and did not think my actions through. I'm sorry._

_ I thought, when you left so suddenly, I thought you'd not wanted me. I understand you still might not, but I will be here in any way that I can for you. Anything for you, my Harry._

_ When I wrote you the letter this morning, I wrote it to spare you the mess I'd made. __I did it so you wouldn't have __I did it so I would never have to hear you say that you didn't want to see me anymore. I'm sorry. I did it to spare myself and that was selfish and wrong._

_Forgive me,_

_yours truly_

Harry cradled the letter to his chest, and fell asleep.


	10. Ch 10: Feelings

**A/N: I don't own Harry Potter! I'm making no money from this!**

* * *

CH10 Feelings

The next morning, though tired, Harry rose before the others and set about writing his return letter. While it was short, it took him awhile and the rest of the boys had risen and left before he'd finished. Luckily, he'd kept the curtain around his bed drawn and was hidden from view.

When he'd finished it read:

_S,_

_There's no need to apologise. I'm sorry for my actions as well. Obviously neither of us really know where we are. Maybe we should talk? Perhaps on Friday? I'd like to get a few good nights of sleep first._

_-H_

Content, he tied the note to Eileen, who'd stayed the night, and dressed for the day.

Arriving at breakfast, he didn't choose his usual seat. Instead, he sat on the opposite side of the table, next the Hermione so he wouldn't have to turn to see the Head Table. Hermione, however, thought this was because of their late-night conversation and was more than happy to make room for him.

When mail began to arrive, Harry sat nervously in his seat, waiting. Hermione, discretely smiled sympathetically at him, offering her support. Harry, feeling much better, returned it. Concerned as she was with Harry, Hermione didn't even notice that the same kestrel that had been plaguing Harry for days had arrived at the Head Table.

Eileen delivered her letter, and Harry dared a glance up to watch Severus. He looked as if he'd not slept a wink, dark circles shadowing his eyes and a frown smeared across his face. When he received the letter his face lit up, and he excused himself from the table.

Harry's worry was not abated. Had he written enough to warrant such a look? He didn't believe so, and he suddenly wished he'd confessed more of his feelings, even if he didn't exactly know what they were yet.

Severus lie awake in his bed until his alarm went off. He'd retired to his bedchamber at nearly four in the morning, assuming that Harry would not return the letter at such a late hour. However, he'd been unable to allow sleep to claim him.

Now, he rose from his silvery bed-covers and dressed for the day. Dismal and exhausted, he recognised the horrible day ahead of him. He knew he'd said too much.

At breakfast the mail arrived, and, shocked, Severus received a letter. Excusing himself to read it in private, his worst fears were recognised.

The letter said nothing of Harry's own feelings. Severus began to dread Friday. This had never happened to him, mainly because he'd never expressed feelings such as these before, but he knew exactly what would happen.

They'd meet, Severus couldn't deny the opportunity to see the man again, and Harry would tell him that he was disgusted, horrified, repulsed. He'd say he was thankful for everything done for him, but he'd be impersonal, almost sympathetic. Severus felt like crying, how very unlike him.

He pulled himself together and swooped out of the deserted corridor towards the dungeons.

* * *

Later that very same day, Snape was called to the Headmaster's office.

"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore said motioning him to an overstuffed chair, "I couldn't help but notice your, shall we say, sleep deprivation."

The Professor was quite aware of what this meant. He'd taken an remarkably high amount of points, even for him, he'd given hours of gruelling homework that was nigh on impossible, and he knew he looked an utter eyesore.

When he refused comment, the wizened wizard continued, "I thought after your patrols, you'd use the night off to your advantage."

Again, he paused for a reply, but the man simply held his arms crossed over his chest and childishly stared at the same spot on the wall.

"Is it Voldemort? Is he angry?" Albus' voice was grave, and this sparked a reaction.

Severus jumped, looking to the man. Still silent, he shook his head and returned his gaze to the wall. He'd not thought that the old man would be worried of such a thing.

"Ah. Perhaps something more personal?"

Severus knew this was a trap. He couldn't say 'no' because then he'd have no reason not to divulge, yet he couldn't say 'yes' or the wretched old man would further question him, however, he'd already answered once so he couldn't very well remain silent.

He shook his head hard, once.

"Very well." Dumbledore said. While he wasn't looking, Severus could tell his ancient eyes were twinkling.

They sat in silence, until Dumbledore sighed.

"Am I dismissed?" Snape spoke curtly.

"No, my dear boy, because you want to speak of what's troubling you."

Severus scoffed. The old bat thought he knew so much.

Albus grew serious at the expression. "Severus," he said sternly, like a grandfather disciplining his grandson, "I did not make it my 428 years without learning a bit about how to judge character."

Snape blanched. People had speculated on Dumbledore's age for years, but know one really knew. It was astonishing. Given, wizards lived quite a bit longer than muggles, but even then, the average wizard lived to be about 300. The lucky ones lived to, at best, 350. He was, without a doubt, speaking to the oldest wizard to ever live, even the portraits looked amazed.

His comment obviously had the desired effect, Severus was clearly distracted. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

"That bloody man." Severus muttered.

The portraits weren't pleased that Snape would say such a thing about the Headmaster, but Dumbledore only chuckled. He knew what the man meant, and it didn't come as a surprise at all. He'd long been aware of the younger man's tendency to let his eyes wander around the men he met, and he also suspected that Severus was unaware he even did so.

No, the Headmaster was not surprised that Severus had finally found someone to catch his attention. He only wondered who the lucky man was. Still smiling, he dismissed the grumpy professor from his office. He wouldn't pry until he was sure Snape was ready.

Afterwards, Dumbledore sat at his regal desk, contemplating who it could be after all these lonely years. He rose after a half-hour, excited for dinner. He'd heard there'd be pie.

* * *

At dinner, the Gryffindors were all in a heated discussion. Each thought McGonagall had given him the hardest time during Transfiguration. She'd given them a review test over all they'd learned in the past five years, and each student swore their spell had not been part of the past curriculum.

Hermione, for her part, was quite sure she'd done well. She'd known all but one of the spells given to each of her classmates, though, strictly speaking, that didn't mean McGonagall had taught them. Hermione was known for her extra studying.

Ron was mid-rant about the tiny bead that he'd been expected to turn into a living paper bird when an unaddressed envelope was dropped unceremoniously on the middle of their table by one of the school's owls.

Harry, distracted by the recent arrival of a certain teacher, did not even notice the letter had arrived until Ron started reading it.

"Friday sounds lovely." He began to the "oohs" of his fellow classmates.

Harry quickly became aware of the situation.

Ron continued. "Same place and time as before or should we go-"

He was cut off as Harry reached across the table to snatch the note from him, his face a brilliant shade of red. He quickly stuffed the letter into an inner pocket of his robes and said, by way of explanation, "It's rude to read other people's mail, Ron." Then to the whole table, "If this is to you, you can get it from me later. I promise not to tell anyone or read it."

Harry could feel the heat abating from his face as conversation awkwardly resumed from its stunned silence. Stealthily, Hermione nudged his ribs with her elbow. As close as they were all sitting on the bench, Harry could feel her shaking with contained laughter.

* * *

Later that night, when only Hermione and Harry were left in the Common Room. Harry, feeling secure that no judgment would come from her, opened his letter. Luckily, it had no introduction this time.

_Friday sounds lovely. Same place and time as before or should we go somewhere different? Perhaps somewhere a little more out of the way?_

_yours truly_

Harry quickly replied on the bottom of the note.

_How about the Astronomy Tower? Same time?_

_Why'd you look so tired today? Was something the matter?_

_-H_

Glancing at Hermione, he went to his dormitory to fetch Hedwig, sent his letter, and returned. She waited to see if he'd say anything, when he did not, she did.

"So the letter was yours?" The question was innocent enough, but the smile in her voice made Harry chuckle.

"Yes," She waited to see if he'd continue, after a moment, he did, "Will you help me get out of here on Friday?"

"Of course," she said easily, "but it'll cost you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, inviting her to continue.

"Details! Harry, details! Last we spoke she'd broken it off!" Hermione's eyes were now alight with curiosity.

He ignored the gender mistake and answered her, "Well, I guess we talked it out. You know that letter I sent? I asked why and said that I'd do whatever I could to fix it."

Hermione sighed. "So romantic," she murmured under her breath.

Harry pretended he hadn't heard her and continued, "When I got back to my room, a bird was waiting with a reply. It said that...Well, it said that it was a misunderstanding. Like, I mean I wasn't exactly clear on what I wanted and so stuff got lost in translation. The letter said that if we agreed on what we wanted, and I think we sort of do, that we'd kind of see where it goes, maybe."

Hermione looked puzzled.

"I think that's what it meant." Harry offered. He was very careful not to use pronouns to give away unneeded information. He was also painfully aware that he was cutting a great deal out.

Hermione's face was still scrunched in confusion. "Is this a serious relationship, Harry?"

"I don't know. Hermione, I'm so lost. Is this a big deal?"

"If you guys are serious about each other, you need to have this conversation, like, a month ago. But if you're still questioning this all, don't lead her on. That's cruel."

Harry rolled his eyes at her first comment, she was starting to loosen up. Then, she'd said it was cruel and he stopped, "But Hermione, what else can I do? I can't just drop the whole thing, and I can't ask to just put it all on hold until I'm ready for the serious relationship thing. That wouldn't be fair."

"It'd be more fair than realising you don't want it at all and breaking her poor heart. From what you said it sounds like she's already made up her mind."

Harry sat silently for a moment. He'd cut out all of the big parts of Severus' letter, and yet she still thought it was serious. "Why is this so complicated?" He moaned.

"It's really not. Here," she move to sit next to him on the couch. "it's obvious you like her. Do you see her in your future? Not as anything specific, just there?"

Harry shrugged; he'd never thought about it.

"Well, can you see a future without her in it?"

Harry shook his head. Severus did seem pretty constant.

"Good. Progress. Now, you two started as friends?" After a nod from Harry she continued, "When did you start thinking you had feelings for her?"

"Monday."

"When did she start showing that she had feelings for you?"

"Well!" Harry sat up. "See, I found out Monday, and it totally freaked me out! But the letter said this feeling crap started this summer! I don't know why it was so hard to say something!"

Hermione snickered. "She was probably concerned you wouldn't feel the same."

She thought she heard Harry mumble something like, "That's dumb," but chose to ignore it.

"So do you think she's attractive?" Harry just looked at her. "Well, you told me you kissed?"

"Er." Harry said. He was starting to regret this conversation.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. He couldn't tell if she was excited or angry. Then she started bombarding him with questions leaving only enough time for him to say, "um," between them.

"Did you kiss her? Or did she kiss you? Or was it kind of mutual? I bet that's it. Now, what kind of kiss was it? Like, chaste or make out? Was there tongue? How long was it?"

"Stop! Merlin, Hermione! What is this? I don't even know how to answer half of those, let alone have time!"

"Well," Hermione motioned for him to answer.

"Er."

"Let's start over." She suggested. "Who kissed who?"

"Er."

"So you just kissed each other; it was mutual?"

"Well, no, well, the first one sort of took me by surprise…" He wasn't about to say he'd initiated the second.

"How many were there?" Her eyebrows had risen so high, they'd disappeared into her bangs.

"Two. The two I told you about in the owlery."

"Tell me everything."

"Er. So I was surprised by the first one." He hesitated, "Then, we talked about stuff-"

"What?"

"Well, I asked what that was for, I guess?"

"And she said?"

"That liking me was ridiculous."

"Then?"

"Then, like, stormed out!"

"Well, did you go after her!" Hermione nearly shouted.

"Not purposely." He mumbled.

"Wait, what?"

"When I opened the door-"

Hermione gasped. "She was waiting for you?"

"Not 'waiting' more like 'hadn't gone anywhere'."

"And? Wait so when was the second kiss again?"

"Then, right when I came out of the room."

She snorted, "What did you run face-first into each other?"

"No, our relationship isn't like yours and Fred's." He retorted.

"Not cool, Potter!" She tried to look menacing but failed completely. The two dissolved into giggles. "But seriously?" she asked after a few minutes, "Was she upset or something?"

"Yeah, I think."

"So she just decided to kiss you again to make it all better?"

"Not really…" Harry was not telling Hermione that he'd kissed Snape, even if he didn't use the man's name.

"You kissed her?" Hermione was incredulous. "How?"

"I'd guess the normal way people kiss." He answered crossly.

"No, like just a peck or what?"

The hot blush was creeping that was creeping back up his neck was enough of an answer for her. "Oh, Harry!" She was ecstatic. "Then what?"

"I was embarrassed!"

"Why? So?"

"Because I don't do stuff like that! So I walked away!"

"You just left?"

He could tell she was appalled, but he didn't know why. "I said 'goodnight'?"

"Oh, Harry," This time he could almost feel the sympathy. "You really screwed up. How would you feel if someone kissed you and walked away?"

"Uh, that kind of happened!"

"Still," Hermione went silent. Then, "Can I read the letter?"

"No!" It was Harry's turn to be appalled. That had to be a violation of some privacy rule.

"Worth a shot."

Harry glared at her. "Night."

"Goodnight!" She said with a wink, returning to her book as he gathered his things and headed up the stairs. He honestly had no idea when she slept.

Hours later, nearly six in the morning, Hermione took the TimeTurner out of her blouse and spun it back, she slept from midnight until six, when she rose to get ready for the day with the other girls.

* * *

**A/N: Again, so sorry the last chapter was late! I hope this makes up for it, and I hope you understand why this was so difficult to write! Ah! A lot happened, huh? Guess our little boys are growing up! As always, reviews are much appreciated! Also, the chapters will (eventually) get longer. This will be quite a long fic when it's finished, but I hope to have it done by the end of the year (even if I have to start posting more than one chapter a week!). Of course, I haven't yet gotten to the end of the fic so I don't actually know how long it will be. In fact, my notes only take me so far so after that I'll be..uh.. winging it? flying off the seat of my pants? not really sure what saying fits here...?**

**Anyway! Hope you enjoyed it! I certainly did (well writing it anyway, but you know what I mean)!**


	11. Ch 11: The Second Meeting

**A/N: I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not making money from this!**

* * *

Ch 11 The Second Meeting

Thursday and Friday passed without a hitch, though Harry was getting rather behind on his homework, and Severus had an empty pit growing in his stomach. Both were quite nervous.

Harry was wondering what he could possibly say, at the same time he was trying to work out his impossible feelings. This was all just too weird, and Hermione wouldn't help him anymore, saying it was his to figure out; she couldn't put words in his mouth.

He didn't know what he felt and if this could be a long-standing thing. All he knew is that he felt something, and it was new. For a painful moment, he wished again for Sirius, he imagined this was the kind of question one might ask a parent figure. He'd never know. On Thursday, he'd tossed the idea around of sending Remus a letter, but he knew the man was busy and would say much the same as Hermione. Beyond that, he'd ask far too many questions and the less people that knew about this, the better. The idea was dropped quickly.

The two days rolled by, each hour seeming to get longer and longer, until all at once it was dinner on Friday, and Harry realised he was still totally unprepared.

* * *

Severus, for his part was trying to convince himself that Harry didn't matter. He wouldn't let the man know how much his rejection would hurt. Thursday night was spent in a torrent of nightmares, none of which he could recall. However, every time he awoke, he was filled with awful dread that Friday evening was going to be atrocious.

He'd watched Harry in class on Friday, as the sixth years had Potions on both Mondays and Fridays this year, searching for some clue as to what Harry would say. Harry had carefully avoided eye contact and paired with Hermione to be sure that nothing could go wrong with the Waking Draught that would bring attention to him.

Noting that the Granger girl seemed particularly pleased with this, Severus felt a pang of jealously. He knew that he might be able to handle Potter not wanting to be close to him, but to watch him in another blossoming relationship would be the last thing he'd like to do.

* * *

Dinner that evening was particularly stressful, both Dumbledore and Hermione noticed.

Harry had moved his regular seat to be next to Hermione and was rapidly darting glances at the Head Table. Hermione caught the looks but they were too fast for her to see where they were directed. She tried to calm him when the rest of the group was discussing Quidditch.

"It'll be fine," She whispered. "Relax. You planned the meeting. You can make the decisions."

"No, I only get one shot at this. What if I screw up?" He stage whispered back.

"Just act like she's still just a friend. You could talk to her fine then, couldn't you?"

Harry visibly relaxed. He might just be able to do this.

Dumbledore, however, made no comment to the nervous wreck seated next to him. He simply watched Severus who was purposely not looking up from his dinner, yet also hardly eating it. The man was clearly enamoured.

Watching Severus as he was, Dumbledore, spared hardly a moment to look at the rest of the Hall. Ergo, he didn't notice the other's discomfort.

* * *

Finally Friday evening in the Common Room, Harry told Hermione the just of what he wanted to say. After a few dozen revisions, she said it was just fine. Anxiously, he cast his TimeTelling spell. Surprised that it was nearly midnight, he headed off.

Severus, was likewise nervous, and knowing he'd have to come from the dungeons to the tallest tower, had started much earlier. He was waiting on Harry when he arrived, ten minutes late and very much out of breath.

He stopped in the doorway as soon as he saw Severus. "Hi." He said, still panting.

Severus could not find the words to reply, and simply reclosed his mouth after a moment in which no words emerged.

Harry leaned against the railing, catching his breath and absentmindedly looking at the stars. "Beautiful."

"Yes," Snape agreed, turning but not to look at the sky.

"So," Harry started after a few moments of tense silence, "how are classes going?"

"Er, good. The first years could use a bit of work." He hesitated, "How are your classes?"

"They're good. My Potions Professor is a prat though; he gave us a 60 cm essay on the first day back." Harry was careful to not look at Snape and to keep a straight face.

Severus paused. He wasn't sure it was meant as a joke until Harry's lips quirked a bit. He smirked. "I heard that a first year could've done it, but it's no surprise you struggled."

Harry snorted.

"Have you finished it?" Snape asked quietly.

"No, I've barely started." Harry turned to look at him, an incredulous, and slightly disgusted, look on his face, "What makes you think I would have finished?"

Severus laughed, "Pardon," he said sarcastically, "I should've known."

Harry laughed at that, making Severus feel bold.

"Want help with it?"

Harry's mouth literally fell open, and he just stared at the Professor. "Seriously?"

"I don't see why not. I have office hours should any student wish to use them. Most never take the time to look them up, but I am there to help." He tried to brush it off, but he could hear his heart beating. He'd not meant to say anything.

"I'd love help! Thanks! I'm pretty sure I'm already failing."

Severus smirked, "I've no doubt you are, Potter."

"Hey!" Harry protested, laughing.

After a few moments of slightly less awkward silence Harry said quietly, seriously, "Hey, Severus?"

Snape closed his eyes. This would be the moment he'd come for. "Yeah?" His voice sounded unsteady, even to his own ears. He turned from the younger man, just as the other turned towards him. Severus could feel the green eyes piercing his skin. He leaned his head forward, allowing his greasy hair to cover his profile.

"I'm not sure what all this is or where it's going, but I like this. Can we stay like this?" His voice sounded small.

Severus took a moment to compose himself, make sure his voice was unwavering, "Yeah, I'd like that."

The two men stayed at the top of the tower until nearly daybreak. Neither had to rise early in the morning, though it was usually Severus' habit to do so, and they didn't want to break the fragile yet steady rhythm of conversation, which at one point had nearly capsized.

"This is so easy." Harry remarked, after a slight lull.

"What is?" Severus asked.

"Talking to you. Monday was...You weren't yourself."

He smirked, if anyone else had said that, he'd have laughed in their face. Before Harry, he hadn't ever felt like someone had known him.

"Hermione's right about everything."

Severus' eyebrows knit together. Had his missed something? "Why do you say that?"

"She said that if we started as friends, and didn't know where we were going, that I should just go back to where I last knew what was going on. She said take is slow from there, and she was right."

Harry seemed to think this was normal, commonplace, but Severus' head nearly exploded he was thinking so quickly. He figured, if Harry'd told Granger, he'd have told the Weasley boy as well, but who else would know? Was there some kind of rule against this? He supposed not as they weren't doing anything promiscuous, but made a mental note to check without letting on what he was up to.

Harry noticed Severus' silence. "She's the only one I talked to, and I didn't tell her who you were." He said quickly. "Honest. She's never going to find out unless one of us would tell her, either. She still thinks I'm writing a girl."

Severus' stomach unclenched, but a new knot formed in his heart. It was because they couldn't tell their friends, he didn't have any of course, but Harry couldn't or wouldn't admit to being with Severus. He sighed. Then he realised, "Why would she assume you're writing a girl? Seems a rather large assumption."

"What? Oh, muggles don't-er. See guys don't really-er. I mean they do, but it's not common that-um." He stopped, frazzled.

"Are two men not allowed to be intrigued by one another?"

"They can, but people really don't like it when they're gay."

"Gay?" Severus asked, confused.

"You know." Harry said, and when a look at Severus showed that he did not, in fact, understand, he continued. "When they _like_ each other."

"You label it? How absurdly prejudice."

"Yeah? I mean, don't wizards?"

"No," Severus responded, "to us it's just a preference, not a trait to judge someone on. It's-" thought a moment, "I'd say it isn't a big deal, but it's not a deal at all. It just is."

"You can't blame her. She was raised like a muggle."

"So were you." Severus pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm-" It was Harry's turn not to stop and think. He'd almost said he was gay, but he'd never thought of himself as gay before. However, when he thought about it, he'd never defined himself as straight either. He liked who he liked. What was wrong with that?

"Ah, see? It doesn't really matter."

From there the conversation flowed from what he'd told his friends to what his friends had been doing lately, to what he'd been doing of late. Severus asked a surprising amount of questions. Finally, when one too many yawns had interrupted their discussions, Severus stood from where he sat on the cold stone ground.

"We're exhausted. I think it's time we head off."

Slightly disappointed, Harry did rather agree. He'd nearly fallen asleep mid-sentence twice!

Severus stepped to where Harry was sitting with his back against the stones a few feet away. He offered a hand to help the younger man up. Accepting it, Harry was pulled fully to his feet before he'd realised the close proximity this put them in. The wall was behind Harry and he was unable to step backwards, but Severus did so, immediately after realising the closeness. He'd also dropped Harry's hand.

Harry was thankful for the move, showing that this could be taken slowly, but something in the pit of his stomach craved for the man's touch again. It was something so simple, but he'd never held hands with anyone and it felt comfortable.

He made no move to initiate the contact again however.

They stood for a moment, neither knowing exactly what to say in farewell. Breaking the awkward pause, Severus reached up swiftly to brush Harry's unruly hair from his eyes, whispering, "Sweet dreams," then he was gone.

Harry stood for a moment, his forehead tingling where the slender fingers had swept across it. Then, he moved to return to his dormitory and get a few hours of sleep.

Upon entering, he saw Hermione curled up in the same arm chair she'd been in early Tuesday morning. Harry went to her and shook her awake. "Get up, it's nearly morning."

She started and cast the TimeTelling spell. She looked at him, flabbergasted. "Did you just get in?"

He laughed, "Yeah, we had a great time." He sounded both exhausted and dreamy, "I didn't say what I was going to say, though. It worked out; we're not going to put a label on 'us', I guess. We're just going to see what happens. 'Night then."

Completely oblivious to Hermione's awestruck stare, he wandered up the stairs toward his inviting bed.

He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, whereas Severus had a bit more trouble falling asleep.

He missed his brightly coloured walls. The oranges and purples could never be brought here, of course. He had people into his rooms, for Merlin's sake! They stayed in the parlour and sitting room mostly, but he couldn't risk a peek of the neon decor. Then, there was the matter of Dumbledore. Severus respected the man, but, frankly, he knew too much and could not be trusted to know about the decoration of Snape's rooms.

The black of the walls were stifling, even on the best of nights and even with the silver designs painted across them. After years of suffering, he'd allowed himself a light green rug. He knew it wasn't the Slytherin colour, but it allowed him to breathe easier with a little more pigment.

He couldn't relax tonight especially. Between the suffocating room and the long talk with Harry, his mind was both drowning and racing. Finally he magicked the light on. With a few quick spells, he turned one of the wall an awful burnt pumpkin, one a beautiful turquoise, and the last two clashing shades of brilliant purple. The ceiling became a shining gold with another flick of his wand. Satisfied, he slept.

* * *

**A/N: Pretty important conversation, isn't it? Hope you like how this turned out. Tell me your thoughts!**

**Also, I'm a little ahead on writing chapters so (I hope) we won't have any more delays like two (two right?) weeks ago! Again! I apologise for that!**


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